When Mr Darcy Met Lizzy
by mary.anne.seaton
Summary: The moment Mr. Darcy first lays his eyes on Elizabeth 'Lizzy' Bennet is one he would never forget. Because he finds her in a compromising position, he develops a prejudice against her. What Mr. Darcy does not know is that Lizzy was only helping a friend out of a very delicate situation. However, her pride would not allow her to explain herself to him.
1. Prologue

PROLOGUE

With great distaste, Fitzwilliam Darcy observed the tavern set in a covert corner on the street. Fitzwilliam fancied himself a gentleman in the highest regard and so he couldn't help his feelings at observing the building before him. First, it galled him to no end to see the dismal attempt at a signpost at the very head of the tavern. It read _Fitzgerald's Tavern_ , he noted with a grimace. That there was a little of his name attached to this place of disrepute was the height of mortification for him and he couldn't wait to make his entrance, go about his business as quietly as the noisy place would permit and make his exit as quietly too.

Alas, his business at the tavern tonight would grant him no such reprieve. It was yet unknown how soon he would be able to conduct his business at the annoying location. And therein lain his second discomfiture within him; he had quite a long time to spend in the place and it wasn't so pleasing with him.

On a breath of a long suffering sigh, Fitzwilliam entered into the establishment and without glancing in any particular direction or anybody in the large room he found himself, took himself straight to the stairs behind the largest table in the room. For a moment, he fancied that eyes followed him as he made his progress. On a second thought however, he supposed that every new entry into the tavern would surely generate a great number of stares; especially one such as himself who stank of town in comparison to the undistinguished appearance of the country folks.

There, Fitzwilliam was right.

The country folks in the tavern momentarily halted their activities and took to staring at the gentleman in black coat, black pants and black hat. That his face was artfully hidden beneath the downward cover of his hat further added to his air of mystery and they wondered who he was. When they came to the realization that he had no caring for them one way or the other, they turned to mind their own business, sufficiently ignoring him the way he did them.

Fitzwilliam acknowledged to himself that he detested the countryside and its encumbrances- the people, the atmosphere, the establishments and landscape. Everything involved seemed all local to him who was used to a town life since childhood. For the life of him, he couldn't imagine what his friend Charles Bingley could have had on his addled mind when he leased Netherfield Park and swept them all- Fitzwilliam, Bingley's two sisters, his brother in law; the husband of the elder sister, and himself to this local place. Fitzwilliam found it a particular bother that he had to change his place of conducting his secret affairs to the lowly place that was _Fitzgerald Tavern_.

Upon entering, he found that everything in the tavern's main parlour was exactly as described to him- his instructions were clear and Fitzwilliam was one to follow such most conscientiously.

The stairs led up to rooms above the main room and Fitzwilliam did not deem to lay a guess about the activities that occurred in the rooms. He was very much familiar with such himself having sowed some wild oats in his younger years but he had come to view such activities as despicable and those that engaged in them in the same manner. He launched a feet into the air and on the first stair. Again, he didn't find it surprising that the stairs were rickety and creaked beneath his weight. Setting his mouth grimly, he proceeded to take himself off to the first room on the right above the rickety stairs. He knocked exactly once and pushed the door open. It creaked most annoyingly too.

The room was quite dark- thrown only in the light of a flickering candle set on a table in a corner though Fitzwilliam thought it was hardly necessary given that it was _he_ who needed the privacy most. He could hear short but quiet breaths coming from the bed and he stopped.

 _He could hardly think of a reason for nerves,_ he thought for the short breaths could only be indicative of unease.

Seeing no other furniture in the room, he took his seat on the bed, clearing his throat loudly to indicate his readiness for the affair.

"You may come under the covers, my love."

The female voice so startled him that Fitzwilliam promptly sprang up like a frightened kitten and found himself on the floor of the room by his own making.

"What cunningness is this?" he said when he at last found his voice. "Where is Sir Fleming and who are you?"

There was a perceptible scrambling about on the bed which alerted Fitzwilliam's senses. Quickly, he took himself off to the table that held the candle and rushed with it to the bed.

The silhouette of a woman appeared before his eyes as she sprang up from the bed. The candle in his hand showed her face to him as he was sure she could not see his due to his low riding hat covering a good portion of his face. The first impression on Fitzwilliam's mind was that were he to meet this woman in any other place, he would take her for a well bred lady. Her face though not of such comeliness that would inspire great odes, was handsome enough to acquire a man's desire. By virtue of her presence in their present location, he could safely presume that she was no lady.

"Who are you?" she said as she stared down at him most accusingly. "Did Gregor send you in his stead, the rake?"

"I know nobody by that name," he answered derisively. "I am here to see someone else and just as surprised to see you here in the room where he ought to be!"

"Are you a visitor here, then?" the woman asked him in mild curiosity but he could glean the relief in her voice, and he wondered at it. It was almost as though she feared discovery. Her voice was genteel too and he wondered again at her status.

"Perhaps," he answered warily.

"Then you must have had the wrong room," she said in an air of urgency and proceeded to ask him which room he sought.

"Pardon me but I am certain I have the right room," he told her most disdainfully. "The first room by above the stairs was what I heard and I believe this here is it."

The woman dared to laugh at him. "This is not the first room on the right," she informed him in a demeaning voice. "If you but step out yourself, you would see that you are in the second room."

Short of calling her a liar, Fitzwilliam saw no other course but to retrace his steps to the door. He was certain that he had entered into the first room he saw on the right. He opened the door and stepped out, the candle still in his hand. Indeed, he saw that there was another room _before_ the one into which he had entered. The stairs was facing towards the hallway and he had not noticed that there were two rooms behind; one to the left and another to the right. He was slightly mortified to have presented himself into such situation as he had met his accidental companion and knew no means by which he could tender an apology enough. However, her intention in such place was so obvious that he disdained to tender any apologies.

He turned to take himself off in the direction of his rightful destination but her voice stopped him,

"The candle if you please," said she.

He turned again, thrust the candle into the outstretched hand at the door and marched on to the _first_ room by the right above the stairs. Just as he reached the door, a gentleman in coat and hat came up the stairs and went straight to the room he had erroneously entered. The man knocked once and proceeded inside. Fitzwilliam shook his head at the debauchery of the man and woman and knocked on the door as he did the first time.

 _In all likelihood, the man and woman involved in the act of immorality are married and as such, not wanting their affairs becoming public._ Fitzwilliam found himself feeling a high sense of disgust for their shamelessness.

The thought of the couple's illicit affair soon left his mind as he found that he had come upon the right room at last. The room was brightly lit and the man he sought was seated at a table facing the door. He proceeded to face the order of the affair he had come to the tavern to attend.

If he had waited but a moment outside the door, he would have observed another young lady go into the room after the man. As he did not, he did not observe this peculiar arrangement. He was so engrossed in his affair with his companion that he was also blissfully unaware of the drama unfolding in the next room.


	2. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER** **ONE**

Hertfordshire was full of bustle with the news of the arrival of the Bingley party. It was said that the man who leased Netherfield Park had taken off to town so soon after he made his arrival but all in pursuit of a favourable cause for the genteel people of Hertfordshire. Perhaps, there were no happier people in Hertfordshire than the aspiring mothers of single ladies who were hopeful that the gentlemen in the party would not leave the countryside empty-handed. Mr. Bingley, as he was soon to be called by all certainly was going to be a favourite of all- the news in circulation was that he had gone back to bring a veritable party of gentlemen and ladies to form his retinue with whom he was going to attend the assembly.

The ladies; the aspiring mothers had no issues with as long as they do not compete with their daughters for the favours of the gentlemen. The only use to which they could be put would be as companions and perhaps, an excuse to call on the gentlemen. Well, in other consideration, since the ladies were from town, perhaps, they might be likely to bring with them the latest style of fashion with them. But all in all, they weren't really so important as to garner much interest. However, the gentlemen were another issue in their own entirety. It was said that the men would be eight in all; inclusive of Mr. Bingley himself.

Mr. Bingley's first crime was to bring only two men along with himself to the neighbourhood- one was married to one of his sisters who formed part of the party and the other was unmarried. And therein again, laid his redemption- when the people heard through visitations and conjectures there from that the other unmarried man in the company was worth a sum of ten thousand a year, the owner of his own estate and handsome to behold, they couldn't be more pleased. Why, those were enough for the heart of any mother who loved their daughters as many would lay claim to. Mr. Bingley himself was a delightful catch too with a sum of five thousand a year and so, the two gentlemen were expected to fulfil their fondest wishes.

It was only to be hoped that their wishes would be realized regarding that Fitzwilliam was highly unwilling to conform to their expectations. He had no love for the country life and country people; and he was afraid that no amount of handsome girls in Netherfield could tempt him to make a proposal to one of the ladies. Even as they prepared for the assembly, Fitzwilliam wished he could persuade his friend to permit him to stay back in the house and perhaps amuse himself with a drink or two- being without company in the entire Netherfield Park _had_ to be better than having to suffer the attendance of the people in this place. More so, he dearly hated to dance especially with those he wasn't personally acquainted with.

"No, you may not, my dear friend," Charles said to him as their chaise was brought forward.

Fitzwilliam sighed. As usual, his friend knew precisely what was on _his_ mind.

Mr. Bingley, on his own part was in no way opposed to the opinions of the gentlemen and ladies of Hertfordshire. In fact, he saw no reason why his good friend cannot find a suitable match for his continued single state in this fine countryside. It was his greatest hope that on taking part in the revelry of the assembly, his friend may be acquainted with the fine ladies and take a preference to one. However, the foreboding look on his face suggested otherwise but Charles was quick to dispel with the suggestion of granting him the reprieve to stay back in the house.

"A man can hope, can he not?" replied Fitzwilliam stoutly, "though I can see that you truly mean to put me through the rigors of this evening."

"I see no reason why you would think the evening would be filled with rigor..."

Only Charles held the opinion that the evening would be an absolute delight on their senses as evident in the opinions expressed by his sisters shortly. His sisters took that moment to emerge from the house and came upon the men with a great look of disturbance on their faces, effectively putting a stop to the reply he was about to utter to his friend.

"Do tell me, dear brother of mine- how do you suppose we will fare in the company of the local people of this place?" the younger sister, Caroline Bingley exclaimed for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day. "I shall not be surprised if the music at the ball was unpleasant and the fashion of the ladies highly dreadful."

"Of course, what do you expect in a place such as this?" Mrs. Hurst asked in a fatigued voice and, latching onto the hand provided by her husband as if she couldn't _stand_ the idea of the ball. "We only have to do this for our dear brother so that he may fulfil the wishes of our dear dead father."

Indeed, Sir Bingley senior always wanted to buy an estate of his own but was unable to fulfil this ardent desire of his before death came upon him. His only son thus took it upon himself to bring this reasoning to realization and thus, the reason for leasing Netherfield Park in the hope that the place might come to his liking and possession.

Bingley looked upon his sisters both and made no answer. He knew his sisters well enough even though he loved them _more_ than he understood them. They found great pleasure in arguing a matter to tatters but he had no doubt that they would not give up the chance to show their fineries to the less fashionable people of Hertfordshire. For the sake of a good laugh at what he imagined would be the disappointed looks on their faces, he was tempted to announce that they no longer have to accompany him to the assembly. Only Fitzwilliam's poor nerves discouraged him from making such teasing announcement.

By the time they were settled in the carriage, Bingley and Darcy in one with Miss Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst in another, the noise about the expectations for the assembly were over and Bingley could enjoy the ride while quietly inspecting the countryside to form an opinion about his ability to live there.

"I mourn that I shall not make a single worthy acquaintance of any respectable lady there," said Caroline Bingley; again raising the topic of the ball.

Fitzwilliam needed not to borrow a leaf from her brother's silent form to ignore the seemingly innocent remark. Indeed the remark was directed at him by the direction of her affecting gaze. Since they had been acquainted by virtue of her brother, Fitzwilliam found it disturbing that Caroline Bingley attached herself to his person. On his own part, Fitzwilliam was not accepting of such attachment and engaged his best to discourage any sort of discourse that might be fancied to inspire her emotions in any way.

"You must absolutely dance with me once the dance starts, Mr. Darcy," she told him unrelentingly, "I fear that I shall become the beau of the ball and many men would want to dance with me; I do not want to be saddled with their attention and as such, you must save me from them."

"O I am sure that you will do exceedingly well at the ball and that you will find a man to your liking to dance with," he replied.

"But, you must dance with me," she said as if it would be counted as a sin should he fail to.

"But of course," he agreed, "the evening would not be replete without me having done so."

His sarcasm was heavily lost on the young Bingley who nodded her pleasure and proceeded to indulge upon her brother's need for silence.

It was quite easy to turn the tables on a thought; given the right prod in the desired direction.

So was the case with Fitzwilliam Darcy upon the arrival of the Bingley party at the assembly. They were all rightly attended to and fawned over by all the foremost people at the assembly; Mr. Bingley doubly so in an attempt to lure him into securing Netherfield on a permanent basis _and_ into choosing one of their daughters. Special attention was also accorded Mr. Darcy for his wealth and fine figure such that he was decided to be a better catch than their rightful neighbour. When the gentleman refused to remove his nose from the air the entire evening however, the benevolent thoughts in the minds of all about him flew out of the room to be replaced by one of contempt and outright disdain. His greatest transgression and perhaps the most unforgivable was his unwillingness to dance with any of their girls; for that alone, he had earned their eternal dislike.

The genteel people of Netherfield tagged him to be proud and uncaring for them and so, they left him to wander about the room as he was wont to do. Bingley in the middle of a dance with the handsomest girl in the room, observed some of the talks about his friend. After the dance, he took a reluctant leave of the lady and walked up to Fitzwilliam in a bid to endeavour a correction to the impressions of the people about him.

"Come, Darcy," he said when he read him standing alone at their table, "I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance."

Fitzwilliam raised one black brow at his friend. He could not discern the nonsense about dancing in the least and he set about setting him straight and on his way.

"I certainly shall not," he disagreed spiritedly. "You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with."

"I would not be so fastidious as you are," his friend cried in opposition, "for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty."

Fitzwilliam sighed. Whoever was only remotely acquainted with Bingley knew that he was not hard to please. The man treated everyone as though they were long term friends which Darcy found particularly unacceptable. Acquaintances should be chosen on some merit and not just allowed to waltz into one's life as they pleased. At times such as this, Darcy wondered how his friends and his sisters could ever be related.

"You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room," he settled to say instead of all that were on his mind.

At this, his friend brightened like the sky at dawn and he himself looked in the direction of the girl whom he had just left her company for his.

"Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld!" Charles agreed keenly as if _he_ was singularly responsible for the deed of nature. "But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you."

"Which do you mean?" and turning round he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said: "She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me."

His cold words must have sent the needed message to his friend because he took his leave of him and ran back to his dancing partner for a second dance. No doubt, Fitzwilliam thought, tongues would soon start wagging about the new gentleman in the neighbourhood dancing twice with one of the girls. However, the dance was the least of the preoccupations of his mind at the moment.

The young girl that Charles had pointed out to him was no other than the paramour he had met in the tavern last night. As a consequence of his wandering about the room and refusal to be introduced, he hadn't happened upon her and her family. One glance in her direction and he knew it was she. It was a shame that she could not however, recognize him. Something must have informed her about him because she had also stared at him wonderingly before dismissing him and looking upon the dance floor again.

 _It was she whom Charles wanted him to dance with._

Fitzwilliam was tempted to roar out an amused laughter at his friend's ill choice but he could not; lest the people decided that he was now more amenable and besiege him with their unwanted company. His remark about slighted ladies had been deliberately said out loud just so she could hear and perhaps remember his voice but she gave no indication that he was familiar to her even though she _must_ have heard him. She would have to be thoroughly pained in the ears not to.

He surreptitiously watched her and her family as the evening progressed and he deemed himself in possession about all there was to know about her.

She was Elizabeth Bennet. Her family was not one that was particularly well to do; she was the second of five girls in her family and less pretty than the first who Charles apparently had taken a liking to. In that wise, her prospects at securing a husband was slim and she must have taken to engaging married men in her favour. The act was quite despicable of her and he found himself thoroughly disgusted with her. There was absolutely no way that he would dance with one of such ill ilk as herself even if she was as pretty as the moon and with the largest dowry in the room.

With the exception of her older sister, Fitzwilliam observed that her family were most loud, especially the mother and the two last sisters who were undoubtedly twins. Elizabeth Bennet on her part was quite lively and smiled way too much- it was no wonder too, given that she was free of her favours with the men. She must be delighted that nobody knew of her secret affairs and he would not be sorry to disappoint her. If he hadn't experienced firsthand the difference between Charles Bingley and his sisters, Fitzwilliam would have wondered how the most handsome girl in the room could be related to the lot.

Fitzwilliam decided to warn his friend about her in the eventuality that she might set his cap for his brother in law.


	3. CHAPTER 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

Longbourn village was where the Bennet family lived. It was some miles away from Meryton, the closest town the village could lay claim to but easily covered by horse or chaise.

Mr. Bennet, the father to all five girls- Jane, the oldest and most beautiful; Elizabeth, the wittiest and her father's favourite; Mary who was more concerned about books and music than about any other thing else; and the twins; Kitty and Lydia who were still so young as to care for any other thing but inspiring the attention of men. He was also the husband to Mrs. Bennet who he found after the effects of love had worn off to be something of a loudmouth, little understanding, and little ambition in life. The centre of her existence was her daughters and her principal affair was to see them married and married well.

The Bennets ladies came upon their father still up when they arrived home at Longbourn. It was nigh midnight but the man was still ensconced in a book as they made their way into the house. Expecting to be fed with the happenings at the assembly, he watched his family enter the house with great sense of forbearance for he was a man who sought not to be disturbed with the trivialities of the world. Alas, fate had decreed him a noisy wife and five daughters such that he was constantly plagued by that which he disliked the most.

On the occasion of this assembly and any for that matter, he took it upon himself to see to it that they arrived home safely before he turned in for the night. Sometimes, he wished that he wouldn't as he viewed the look of excitement upon the face of his wife, most especially.

In resignation at his fate, he set aside his book and looked upon them as they made a beeline for him.

"Oh! My dear Mr. Bennet," Mrs. Bennet addressed him as soon as she entered the room; "We have had a most delightful evening, a most excellent ball. I wish you had been there."

With that introduction, she proceeded to fill his ears with the events of the evening, barely taking a breath to fill her lungs with air.

"Jane was so admired, nothing could be like it. Everybody said how well she looked; and Mr. Bingley thought her quite beautiful, and danced with her twice! Only think of that, my dear; he actually danced with her twice! And she was the only creature in the room that he asked a second time. First of all, he asked Miss Lucas. I was so vexed to see him stand up with her! But, however, he did not admire her at all; indeed, nobody can, you know; and he seemed quite struck with Jane as she was going down the dance. So he inquired who she was, and got introduced, and asked her for the two next. Then the two third he danced with Miss King, and the two fourth with Maria Lucas, and the two fifth with Jane again, and the two sixth with Lizzy, and the Boulanger—"

Mr. Bennet _hadn't_ attended the assembly for a purpose and he was in no mood to be apprised of all the dances as if he _had_ been there.

"If he had had any compassion for me," cried her husband impatiently, "he would not have danced half so much! For God's sake, say no more of his partners. O that he had sprained his ankle in the first dance!"

Mrs. Bennet was only just starting and she had plenty other things to say outside the confines of the dances of the man, Mr. Bingley and his admiration for her daughter.

"Oh! My dear, I am quite delighted with him. He is so excessively handsome! And his sisters are charming women. I never in my life saw anything more elegant than their dresses. I daresay the lace upon Mrs. Hurst's gown..."

Mr. Bennet heaved a great sigh. He was afraid that his wife would begin to sing a poem in dedication to Mrs. Hurst's dress if he did not interrupt her. This time however, he needed to be more firm in his protest.

"Pray my dear woman, I am in no mood to listen to the description of finery or the people who wore them for that matter," he said with candour. "If there is naught to say about the assembly anymore, I would bid us all go to bed."

There was no liking for this short interruption of his in Mrs. Bennet. Her excited babble died a painful death but regrettably, she was no woman to give up; especially not in the event of such barefaced rebuttal. Her next obligation was to therefore speak about the most despicable of the Bingley party with exaggerated contempt which stemmed from bitterness at being cut short in her relation of the night's event.

"I do not know what that man, Mr. Darcy thinks of himself certainly!" she began. Mr. Bennet's ears perked at this as he was well acquainted with his wife's ways. Whenever she found something wrong with a human, then it was most likely that the person under her dislike was an upright individual who would not take to her silly whims.

"Why, Lizzy heard him insult her person even though _he_ knew that she was certainly within hearing distance of him!" continued his wife. "Lizzy, tell your dear father what you told us all that the dreadful Mr. Darcy said at the ball."

The girls had been seated huddled up together on the longest sofa in the living room and listening to the recount of the evening by their mother. In the process, they had gotten around to removing their mittens, socks and hats. All of which now either rested at their feet or on their bodies.

"Yes mother," Lizzy piped up, mischief in her very eyes. "You see, I deem the man the silliest of all men I have ever encountered- though the conversation I heard from could barely count as an encounter, I suppose. Mr. Bingley, the kind man took it upon himself to cheer his friend into a dance with me and I heard it all from where I sat. However, Mr. Darcy remarked rather unkindly that he could not be bothered by a slighted woman such as me who couldn't garner a dancing partner for herself."

If the incident hadn't been told from LIzzy's own mouth, Mr. Bennet was prone to discard the revelation as irrelevant as soon as it was told. However, he found that he agreed with Mrs. Bennet in her estimation of the man's character; how can there be a man who would not want to avail himself of Elizabeth's person?

"I do not know how you can recount the conversation with such calm," Lydia spoke up in an affronted manner, "Were it myself in those shoes, I would have walked up to him to demand an apology for the slight!"

Kitty was nodding in agreement with her twin along with Mrs. Bennet; Jane was looking concerned that the entire Bingley party would be declared unfit for future acquaintances while Mary appeared bored with them all.

"And a pity it really is that you _weren't_ the one in such situation?" Mr. Bennet declared most sarcastically. It was common enough knowledge that the girl was the most like her mother and with a penchant to allow herself to be carried away by slights and irrelevances.

"I was in no way offended at his remark- and why should I?" Elizabeth announced with a dainty shrug. "The man barely knows of me as I, him. I have no contribution or care towards whatever opinion he forms of me; a reason I find him most ridiculous and unmanly. Such can only provoke mirth in me and nothing else."

It was speeches such as this from Elizabeth that duly compensated for being saddled with the responsibility of housing five girls along with his wife, Mr. Bennet thought proudly. He decided that the man Mr. Darcy could truly be unworthy of his daughter so clever.

"But I can assure you," Mrs Bennet resumed, "that Lizzy does not lose much by not suiting his fancy; for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited that there was no enduring him! He walked here, and he walked there, fancying himself so very great! Not handsome enough to dance with! I wish you had been there, my dear, to have given him one of your set-downs. I quite detest the man."

Since Mr. Bennet quite agree with his wife's view _and_ didn't want to tell her that he did, he kept his silence until the ladies decided that there was nothing left to say of the evening they just had. They each began to rise and seek their beds as did he and Mrs. Bennet when all was finally quiet.

Mr. Bennet hoped to sleep till noon; just enough and above to prepare him for another day with his family. He had no doubts that he had not heard the last of the Bingley-Darcy episode.


	4. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

The friendship between the two gentlemen, Mr. Charles Bingley and Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, was one that Bingley held in utmost regard. In spite or perhaps, because of the great difference in the character of the two men, they found themselves inordinately attracted to each other's personality and in turned deeply affectionate towards each other like brothers.

It did not matter that Darcy was twenty and eight years of age while Bingley was younger by four years, or that Darcy was more well-to-do than his young friend. Both men knew perfectly well their ages and circumstance before engaging in such enduring friendship. Bingley was most attracted to Darcy's ease of carriage, flexible temperament, and frankness in all matters regardless of who was involved. As a result, he heavily relied on his friend's good sense of judgement and never passed the opportunity to avail himself of his pronouncement on matters he found too consuming to deliberate upon on his own- a reason he invited him to Netherfield Park. He had come upon his inheritance barely two years ago when he heard about Netherfield Park. He had not tarried to rush over to see the place for himself; one look through the rooms and he liked it enough to lease it and stay in the house while he tried to see if he could make the place his home with the help of his friend and his sisters. It wasn't that he, Bingley, was a man without some cleverness in his head, but he was of the opinion that two heads were certainly better than one and Fitzwilliam indeed had a good head on his fine shoulders.

He would dearly like his friend's candid opinion about the place and its people. He also knew that he would take his friend's counsel without another thought whenever it was pronounced.

They were in the moment, seated in the breakfast room after breakfast the noon after the party. Fitzwilliam had since had his breakfast having woken before them all despite the late night they all had but he had bestowed them with his presence nonetheless.

The manner in which Fitzwilliam spoke of the Meryton assembly was, however, not one that agreed with the opinions that he, Bingley, had surmised and he found that he could not disagree with his friend more.

"They are a bunch of ignorant people with little beauty and sense of fashion," Fitzwilliam declared quite unfeelingly.

In all honesty and with lack of pretence, Bingley pronounced that never had he met with more enjoyable company than the lot of people he encountered in the room at the assembly. There, he had received a warm welcome that made him feel at home and most pleased. Gone was the stiffness he had been so accustomed with living the town life and he appreciated the evident lack of affectedness in the countenance of most at the assembly.

There also he had the delightful opportunity to meet with Miss Bennet.

"I declare; what of Miss Bennet?" he argued with his friend. "You certainly can find no fault with her as she is the fairest of them all in handsomeness and grace."

"I daresay that Miss Bennet is indeed pretty," he acknowledged "but she smiled too much."

Charles couldn't fathom how anyone could find fault with Jane Bennet and he turned to his sisters for support.

Mrs. Hurst and her sister supported their brother, but only with regarding to Jane Bennet.

"I certainly would like to know more about her- she is such a sweet girl of easy temperament," Caroline permitted cautiously for she took great care not to go against anything that Fitzwilliam declared. Her liking for the Bennet girl was quite natural but increased upon seeing Fitzwilliam's obvious disregard for her one way or the other.

And as such, Charles based his decision on this, totally ignoring the look of displeasure on his friend's face. It was decided by him than Miss Bennet was a good girl and he would not hesitate to call on her and her family subsequently.

He whistled away at the breakfast table, thinking about the beautiful smiles of the sweet lady in question. The same smile that his friend had found to be a point of discontentment was a source of pleasure for him.

In fact, he found that he liked Jane Bennet's smile quite very much.

Caroline Bingley found herself with nothing to do for the whole afternoon. The weather, though bright and warm, offered no solace for her unoccupied mind and she found herself wandering through the garden in Netherfield. Her plan had been to spend the whole day in the company of Mr. Darcy and so, she had refused Mr. Hurst's invitation to accompany him and her sister to see the countryside. But Mr. Darcy had outwitted her again as she couldn't find him in the whole building and neither could Charles who was busy with some correspondence in the little room beside his bedroom- a room which he conveniently called his library despite the obviousness that the room was not intended for something more than a store.

Caroline decidedly ignored any thoughts about the quirks to continue her dwellings on Mr. Darcy. Since they moved in, he always had one or more private business to attend and her curiosity was increasingly piqued by his continual absence in the house.

Sighing at the pain of her reflections, she turned her mind to the occupation with less aching matters. The more she thought about Mr. Darcy's indifference to her, the more she might hurt her fragile heart and ruin a perfectly good day- he must know that she liked him immensely; why, she even had a good dowry to offer him though not much compared to his younger sister's but it would do him good and he and her brother were good friends. It was a wonder, indeed, how he couldn't deem to ask her hand in marriage considering that she was very well pleasing to the eye, rich enough and highly fashionable to provide him with good company and children. She did not even want to think about how her immense accomplishments and travels could benefit him should they become tied in marriage.

Perhaps if Mrs. Bingley wasn't so conceited in her thoughts about herself and with a little affectedness in her behaviour, Mr. Darcy might bestow a pleasing glance in her favour, but alas, there was nobody to inform her of this. The young miss forgot that her riches and that of her brother were derived through trade and had nothing to do with title and such. Mrs. Hurst and she had so taken it into their heads and think themselves above all without at least equal or above their earnings in a year. Sadly, her air of superciliousness was not so endearing to men in her acquaintance; not to Mr. Darcy especially.

Again, Caroline bid herself not to think about Mr. Darcy at all.

With much effort, she turned her mind to the Meryton assembly the day before. For all intent and purpose, she thought, the ball was the most dreadful thing she had ever attended in her life. Of course, she had danced every dance and rightly so- a handsome fashionable lady of substance such as herself cannot be left without partners for even a single dance. It would be the height of insubordination on the part of the gentlemen present and she was glad that at the very least, they knew their manners. As to the rest, she could only sigh in resignation. The music could be regarded as insipid at best and the company, dull. A tiny voice at the back of her mind reminded her that she could have had as much fun at the assembly had she allowed herself be drawn into conversation by the eager gentlemen and friendly ladies at the assembly but she assiduously ignored the errant voice and continued recounting to herself how much she despised the assembly.

Her thought flowed to Miss Bennet and she agreed a little that perhaps, the assembly hadn't gone for aught. For a girl in such a place, Caroline thought her exceedingly well behaved and adequately beautiful enough to wait on her. More so, it seemed as if Mr. Darcy was not favourable to her and for Caroline; that in itself was a reason enough to like her better. That her brother was highly inclined towards her was of no consequence; it was all the time to pass the time at Netherfield. Making up her mind to go in pursuit of this new interest, she decided to invite Mrs. Bennet to tea at Netherfield. On a charitable thought, Caroline decided that she might as well include the entire Bennet ladies.


	5. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Elizabeth couldn't disagree with her sister more.

Just as there was a discussion about the Bennets at Netherfield that noon, she and Jane were holding their own private counsel about the Bingley party. Jane was of the unaffected opinion that the Bingley party was very much agreeable and pleasant. To her, her sister was always too exceeding in praises of everyone and never saw a fault in others except that it were glaring to the world; and that even, she would never deign to speak.

"Miss Bingley is to live with her brother, and keep his house; and I am much mistaken if we shall not find a very charming neighbour in her," Jane summarised most convincingly.

If Elizabeth knew her sister less than she did, she would think that perhaps Jane was being deliberately sarcastic with her remark to which they can both enjoy a good laugh. However, she knew that her sister spoke what she thought. What with all the haughtiness and disdain evident upon the persons of the two Bingley women all through the ball, Elizabeth was of the opinion that the two women would certainly not make charming neighbours as her sister declared.

The brother though was a different person altogether and there; she consented with Jane's opinion of the man. He was gentle, open, agreeable and likewise handsome- she was contented with her sister's liking of him and already gave her the leave to do so as much as she wished- unlike his friend, Mr. Darcy.

Quite strange to Elizabeth was the sense of familiarity that she felt upon looking into the face of the man when Mr. Bingley was making an endeavour to solicit a dance with him on her unwilling behalf. Somehow, she felt as though she had met with the man most recently but for the life of her, she knew that there was no circumstance by which they could have happened upon each other before the assembly. His first gaze upon herself had been one of initial surprise before it gave way to disdain and coldness and therein laid Elizabeth's curiosity; she dearly wanted to know what opinion the man could have formed of her to bring forth such instant dislike and refusal of her company for a dance. Just then, he had made that statement to slight her and his silliness had impressed upon her- he wasn't worthy of her attention in the least.

"You are not listening to a thing I say, are you?" Jane cried despondently, having at last noticed that Elizabeth had stopped commenting to her long flow of words about the assembly.

Elizabeth immediately expressed her contriteness for allowing her mind to wander off her sister's exuberant praises of the Bingley party.

"I daresay that we should tell mama to impress it upon papa so that we could all go visiting at Netherfield; wouldn't it be interesting to converse about the assembly with them all and know their opinions about the assembly from their very mouths?" Jane said.

Elizabeth thought it a wonderful plan. She realized that perhaps, she was too quick to judge the Bingley sisters, but not the arrogant Mr. Darcy- to her, he had absolutely no point of redemption.

The entire Bennet ladies had removed themselves from their home to pay a visit to Netherfield Park upon informing the master of the house and obtaining a favourable response. Of all the faults with the Bennet ladies, perhaps what could be said about their personalities in general was that there was no ounce of artifice or pretence in a single bone of their slight bodies. Upon waiting upon Bingley and his companions, they exuded no show of what they were not and acted exactly as they were.

Mrs. Bennet was prone to speaking out of turn and particularly in praises of Jane's beauty and Lydia's rightness in all things. Elizabeth showed her cleverness in a wide array of topics and soon found herself engaged in a friendly discussion with Mr. Bingley, all the while pointedly ignoring his friend, Mr. Darcy. Jane was good companion to the ladies and their likeness for her pleasing person was evident in the attention they paid her whilst they ignored the rest of the Bennet ladies the entire afternoon. Mary took one look at the grand pianoforte set in the corner of the drawing room and established herself there to the exclusion of all. Kitty and Lydia amused themselves by asking Mr. Darcy about the town from whence they came to be in Netherfield and about the estate he owned. Mr. Darcy gracefully answered the twins though in a manner that depicted his irritation and that he would rather be left to his own devise.

By the time the Bennets took their leave of Netherfield, each party had their own opinions about the other and decided to stand firm upon it. Their varying opinions were discussed thus:

"Why, don't you think Mrs. Bennet quite insufferable?" asked Mrs. Hurst of her sister as they made their way back into the house after waving off the Bennets with much smiles.

"I thought so too myself, but the second daughter, Elizabeth, irritated me the most- whatever could she mean by acting way too intelligent for her own good and striking _that_ conversation with Charles about the economy of the country?" Caroline declared. "I do not think I like her very much."

They had sufficiently warmed up to the topic by the time they reached back into the drawing room and took their seats. The men had promptly made themselves scarce for exactly the reason that the two sisters were now thoroughly engaged.

"What about Mary?" Mrs. Hurst asked.

At this, Caroline snorted most unladylike. "As accomplished as she is, I would say she is too plain and involved with her own accomplishments to be worth any mention at all; and dear sister, I would faint if you mention the twins at all. They are the most ridiculous set of imps I have ever been ill-opportune to encounter- why-ever did they have to bother Mr. Darcy in that tiresome manner?"

Mrs. Hurst gave a thoroughly exaggerated sigh of weariness and yawned. "The visit is bad for my nerves, I think I will retire to my room," she said though she made no effort to hoist herself off the seat.

"I think the only single light about the visit was Jane Bennet," Caroline continued as if her sister had not spoken at all. "I despair that such handsome, well mannered girl could be born into such family."

The Bingley sisters decided harmoniously that Jane Bennet would most definitely serve as a good companion during their stay in the country and that she deserved another invitation- though of course, in the exclusion of her family. They both decided, too, that the other sister, Elizabeth could also be permitted to join- as long as she withheld her outlandish propensity to act so impertinent.

Bingley could be no more delighted with Jane Bennet and this was what was on his mind as he made his way to the stables for a ride around the estate. She was the epitome of grace and ease and though they never spoke more than a few words to each other- and that only during lunch, he found himself enchanted by her and wished to know more about her. As for her family, he found them interesting and diverse enough especially the second sister. Like his friend, Fitzwilliam, she had a good head on her shoulders. For her wit alone, he wished that his friend would design it upon himself to engage her in a spur of words. Regrettably, the two hadn't even spared each other more than one or two disdainful glances that got him wondering most curiously. He decided to pursue the matter with his friend right after his ride.

Mr Darcy's opinion had been surmised from his survey of the family from the very first night, and it remained firmly. He allowed that there were slight changes in those opinions though he could scarcely regard the lot as close acquaintances. He found that Jane Bennet was as good as unpretentious as anyone could be and that Elizabeth Bennet was a slight sight more handsome than he had allowed her at the assembly. Still, the memory of her meeting with a man in a tavern would not leave his mind and he decided that he could not forgive her for this even though he found himself increasingly drawn to the intelligence in her gaze and the liveliness with which she approached matters. He only wished she wasn't as wanton as he had met her to be and perhaps, he would have deemed her fit of his attentions. As it were, her silly younger sisters had taken it upon themselves to trouble him to no end while he amused himself with her on the pretence of ignoring Elizabeth and Charles.

Mr. Hurst didn't think of them at all. His presence in the house during their visit had gone entirely unnoticed as all he did was eat when lunch was served and doze on the chair all day. None thought of him and he, of none.

As for the Bennet family, well, their opinions could be none other than as could be expected for their personalities.

"I tell you my dear Mr. Bennet, Mr. Bingley greatly approves of Jane," she told her husband that night. "He was most gentlemanly towards her; asking her if she would like more tea and held the door for her and all sorts. Indeed, I was flattered myself and couldn't imagine any such other gentleman with such perfect manners."

As for the rest of the party- Mr. Darcy; Mr. and Mrs. Hurst Miss Bingley, they simply faded into nothingness as far as Mrs. Bennet was concerned and she made no mention of them.

Needless, perhaps, to say was that Jane's opinions about the family remained unchanged- she thought they were all delightful in their own way and held Mr. Bingley, especially warm; though of course, she gave no indication that she was partial towards him- it would, after all be too presumptuous of her.

Mary was like Mr. Hurst- despite her prolonged performance at the pianoforte, she made no impression upon anybody as nobody made upon her

The twins deemed it unnecessary to hold an opinion or another about their hosts. It was after only another afternoon spent passing time with neighbours and since there were no eligible men to their liking, it would be a total waste of time to spend time in analysis of the character of the individuals they encountered upon the visit.

Elizabeth was afraid that her opinions about the Bingley sisters would have to remain unmoved as it were. Despite her good intentions to be of the best modest character and as such see Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst in the best of light for her sister's sake, the women continually imposed upon her dislike and disregard to the extent that Elizabeth knew that she could not bring herself to care for them in one way or the other. With as little interaction with Mr Darcy as she had at Netherfield, she could surmise his many flaws and she was sure they would fill an entire writing paper were she to list them one after the other. Of them all, Mr. Bingley remained the most agreeable and infinitely better person; an opinion she believed to be deeply impressed upon her mind from the intelligent conversation they had. Most men his calibre would deride the knowledge of women but he had listened to her without an offense.

All Elizabeth's opinions, she mentioned to Charlotte Lucas, her best friend in the entire country. The Lucases were the Bennets' only family friend and it was not strange for both families to exchange visits and wait upon each other. The morning after the visit, Charlotte had made haste to Longbourn to hear about the family's visit to Netherfield. She was the eldest daughter of Sir William Lucas, a man whose recent knighthood made him quit his former trade to establish himself and his family in his own estate; Lucas Lodge, some walking distance away from Longbourn, from where his family came to know the Bennets.

Charlotte expressed her encouragement about the attraction between Jane and Mr. Bingley most favourably but with some reserve as to the inadequate attention that Jane paid the man. It was her thought that a woman must help on a man to like her while ensnaring him in her wiles but Elizabeth couldn't wholly agree about that either.

"But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow." Elizabeth protested, "If I can perceive her regard for him, he must be a simpleton, indeed, not to discover it too."

Her friend shook her head, smiling mildly at Elizabeth's supposition.

"Remember, Lizzy, that he does not know Jane's disposition as you do," she amended.

They argued the topic for the better part of half an hour until Charlotte decided that she might as well express her heartfelt wishes about the matter. To her, if the target was marriage, it should be done with practicality of mind and little of emotions. Her most recent experience with a man had taught her just so.

"Well, I wish Jane success with all my heart," Charlotte concluded, "and if she were married to him to-morrow, I should think she had as good a chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character for a twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other or ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always continue to grow sufficiently, unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life."

To this, Elizabeth had a trifling feeling of unease. She _knew_ of her friend's recent escape from a drastic fate in the hands of a man and she reasoned that the experience was yet to leave her friend's consciousness.

"You make me laugh, Charlotte," she said as a way of tease, "but it is not sound. You know it is not sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself."

Charlotte wasted no time in refuting the statement on the spot: "Indeed, I will, my dear friend, Lizzy as you well know that I do not have the luxury of time for frivolities such as emotions to dwell upon were a man to seek my hand in marriage in this instant."

The statement was declared with such heartfelt honesty that Elizabeth was certain there could be no mistaking the bitterness disguised within. Charlotte's hurts still lingered in her words and thoughts, Elizabeth saw; and she was helpless to help her friend. She opened her mouth to say something about the recent happening but she decided against such.

Perhaps, it was yet too soon to presume Charlotte to forget the rake who almost ruined her irreparably were it not for Elizabeth's intervention in the matter. Elizabeth decided that she would wait for some time before she broached the matter with her friend again. There was no better antidote for matters of the heart than time, she had learnt.


	6. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

"Damnation!"

Fitzwilliam Darcy muttered the expletive with all the frustration of a man who did not know what he was about. For the second time in the week, he found himself at the tavern for another clandestine meeting. However, the meeting as with the preceding one was the last item on his insane mind. Aye, his mind must be going insane if the first thing it concerned itself with was to wander about the tavern in search of a lady with comely eyes, quick wit and rapturous laughter.

It was principally disconcerting that he was beginning to think of her as pretty. Had he not met her in the room above stairs in the tavern, it was his opinion that he would still have made the statement he made about her at the assembly afterwards- though of course, he allowed that the meeting was a reason enough for his derisive statement. Then, he hadn't found her particularly handsome till recently when he began to think of her dark eyes as mesmerizing, her figure as slim and light enough to be pleasing and her face as lively enough to be decidedly attractive _to him_.

As he took himself up the creaky stairs, he cursed his continued preoccupation with Elizabeth Bennet. Since the Bennet ladies waited upon the Bingley ladies nearly but a fortnight ago, he couldn't seem to think about her in terms of the lady of the night he saw at the tavern on his first night in the country. Her playful disposition and quick smiles were in stark contrast to the place where he first had met her; even though she was yet aware that it was he who happened upon her in the tavern. Because his mind was becoming too engaged in ruminations about her, he had set about convincing his addled mind that she hadn't been the lady he saw in the dark room at the tavern. The only fix was that his eyes knew what they saw and who they saw was none other than Elizabeth Bennet. Despite his privy knowledge about her, he found that he was unconsciously in search of her each time he visited the tavern after.

He could adequately declare that he was fascinated with the woman that was Elizabeth Bennet; and he could hardly blame himself, he knew, for alas, he had always been intrigued with an evidence of mystery; and Miss Elizabeth was nothing if not one mystery he desired to unravel.

Perhaps, he thought just as he reached the first door on the right of the hall above stairs in the tavern, he might do his mind some good if he took it upon himself to investigate the two faced personality of its object of fascination. Aye, it would give his mind rest to know about Miss Elizabeth's true nature.

"My friend, your complacency towards this ball at Sir Lucas' has been observed by me," said Bingley as he came down the stairs to come upon Darcy seated, all dressed in the drawing room and in wait for others. "Whereupon you would have declared your best opposition to attend the ball, you are the first to wait in readiness for the rest of us. Has aught changed about your impression with the countryside or do you find Sir William Lucas more agreeable a personality to attend his ball without a breath of complaint?"

Bingley took the seat opposite his friend, and silently observed the unopened flask of wine on the table. He raised his gaze to look Darcy in the eye to show his expectation for a reply to his observation.

"I assure you, dear friend, nothing has changed in the least," declared he, "but I find it tiresome to argue the same point with you when you will not allow me victory."

The statement was remarked upon with some calm of spirit that laughter bubbled out of Charles.

"That, you have in the right my friend," he allowed. "After the business of putting Netherfield in consideration of purchase, our principal business in Meryton would be to take delight in the pleasures of the people and their company. It would be absolutely unforgiving _not_ to attend this sort of gatherings as the ball and thereupon mingle with the various personalities of the country."

Fitzwilliam snorted at this but Charles observed how half hearted the sound was. Verily, whether his friend liked it or not, Fitzwilliam was becoming more agreeable to this place and _that_ was the reason for his complacency not the prospect of losing an argument with him. He was about to tell him just so when his sisters and Mr. Hurst came into the room.

"I heard your gay laughter from outside in the hall," Caroline declared interestedly. "Pray tell- what do you find so amusing and in the company of Mr. Darcy no less."

Charles shared a look with Fitzwilliam before he turned to his sister. As always, she looked pleasing to the eyes and with an air of decided self importance about her that said she knew exactly how handsome she was. Charles sighed inwardly; Caroline would remain unmarried for long. The thought, however, did not stop him from the teasing remark he replied to her:

"Darcy here was just telling me how very much admired you were at the assembly the last time that he thought you wouldn't escape a marriage proposal from one of the gentlemen of Meryton."

Oh, the looks on both his sisters' faces were priceless. Even Mr. Hurst produced an amused chuckle at the joke. Caroline stuttered on a breath of annoyance directed first at Charles and then at Darcy who was smiling like a scoundrel before she huffed out of the room most angrily.

"How can you say that to her, Charles, and why would Mr. Darcy think such of her?" protested her sister. "You know how she—we detest this people and to think of marriage to one of them is abominable. Why, they are decidedly local and uncultured!"

Mrs. Hurst leaned into her husband and began to fan herself vigorously as if the thought alone would cause her to expire.

"Believe me, dearest sister of mine, I had no idea that the topic was so distasteful to Caroline or I wouldn't have thought to entertain the idea for a second." Charles had a silly smile on his face and a hand on his chest as he said the words and so, they were meted with an annoyed look from his other sister.

She also dragged her husband out of the room, leaving him alone with Fitzwilliam once more.

"You rogue." Darcy punched him lightly in the arm as the door closed, "teasing your own sister so." The mischief in his eyes spoke of the enjoyment _he_ derived from the scene nonetheless.

Charles stood and adjusted his cravat. "You have to admit that she simply makes it easy to do so; and you must confess how delightful it always is to observe her countenance when the subject of the country rears up. Her expression is not quite different from yours about the matter, did you know? At the very least, that is; till today."

His friend made no reply but stood and raised his broad shoulders in an unconcerned way. Charles paused for a moment on a thought and then his eyes brightened. Fitzwilliam knew immediately that his friend was about some insane scheme even before he uttered a word.

"Want to know what I think, Darcy?" Charles asked as they moved out of the room and without waiting for an answer, continued; "I think you, my humble self and Caroline will leave this place- if we do, with a spouse in tow."

Fitzwilliam growled fiercely at him and reached to grab _his humble self_ but Charles flew out of the room ahead of him, laughing.


	7. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

The ball was formally opened and mostly underway by the time they gained entry. The Bingley sisters had insisted on going an hour later than specified on the invitation card and as a result the whole party had to wait for half an hour and a quarter to pass before they set off. The journey had taken another quarter of an hour.

"We wouldn't be late Charles," Mrs. Hurst had declared daintily when her brother deigned to complain. "We will be _fashionably_ late and what better way to impact our superiority?"

And that was it. Their arrival was well timed to intrude upon the ball in a way that would ensure their entrance was noticed by all and sundry. To the immense satisfaction of the ladies and annoyance of Darcy and Bingley, their fineries were immediately remarked upon and the comeliness of the party excessively praised. Whispers rent the air about their polish and fashion that got Caroline and Mrs. Hurst walking on air. The ball was as lively as a marketplace and everyone, it seemed, was having a great time. They were heralded into the room by the butler in the house with great flourish; causing eyes to follow them as they made their way in. Immediately, Sir William Lucas came to wait on them and show them to a table. The women basked in the attention and magnanimously commented on his house, clothes and round look. To say the congenial portly man was pleased would be a gross understatement.

With the ball starting on such a pleasing note, the ladies were in high spirits and their disposition was more favourable to the country folks. It didn't take long for Caroline to be asked for a dance. Bingley, upon arrival, set himself to immediately be on the watch for Jane Bennet and set off for her as soon as her dancing partner released her. Mr. Hurst took his wife to the dance floor and Darcy was left to his means. Unknown to the rest of his party, _he_ had been on the watch for Elizabeth Bennet most discretely but he was yet to glean a sight of her fair self.

Seeing no other alternative than to walk around the room as was his habit anyway at such gathering, he stood up to do exactly so. His prance took him to an assembly of gentlemen in deep conversation about the state of the country. There was a single lady in their midst and Darcy was none too surprised to find Miss Elizabeth sparring words with a Colonel Forster with whom Fitzwilliam had made an earlier acquaintance at the very first assembly they attended upon their arrival at Netherfield.

"I tell you, sir, that it is ignorance rather than mere poverty that spurs these attacks on industrial machinery employed in the factories," she was saying most passionately. "Perhaps, if these people came to the realization that an acquired knowledge of the craft of the same machinery they break so carelessly might land them a good employment, their protests might come to an end."

Fitzwilliam did not hesitate to join into the conversation. It was the perfect opportunity to engage Elizabeth Bennet in a discourse with him albeit indirectly and he would not shun such presentation.

"I would agree with Miss Bennet here but for the statement about learning about the machinery craft. These men understand that the machinery has come to displace them from work; their protests stem from this knowledge and they sought to do anything in their power to stop this from happening- though, of course, technology has come to stay in England much to their imminent disappointment."

The party turned to look at him and he couldn't help but beam at his own grandiloquence. He positioned himself to the left of Miss Bennet who was shooting small daggers at him with her dark eyes, but he smiled grandly in her direction. He couldn't imagine why she frowned so fiercely; he had only buttressed her point, had he not?

"Well said, Mr. Darcy," Colonel Forster said, slapping him rather hard on the back, "and from one who hitherto has felt no need to join any sort of conversation so far, too."

Darcy took the jibe in good stride but felt instant regret when Colonel Forster took it upon himself to introduce him to the gentlemen present in the gathering. The conversation moved to safer grounds when the ball was commented upon and Elizabeth took it upon herself to badger the colonel to host a ball at his residence. The man tried his utmost to talk his way out of the demand but Elizabeth would not let him be until she wheedled a promise out of his mouth. The ball was obviously the purpose for her entrenchment in the midst of the gentlemen; because after extracting the promise, she took her leave of the assembly, thus leaving him with _his_ purpose of entering the discussion unfulfilled.

It took another hour before he could extricate himself from the gathering whereupon Caroline seized him for a dance.

The ball was nigh drawing to an end when he spotted his evasive mistress at a table with another lady; Miss Charlotte Lucas, the daughter of their host for the night. The two were involved in a conversation that got Miss Elizabeth's brows knitted in a frown; and he could speculate that he was the topic of such unfavourable disposition when she glanced up to see him approaching and the frown marks deepened. Miss Charlotte said something to her and she set her jaw most determinedly and turned to him just as he reached the two.

"Did you not think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?" she asked him with a glimmer in her eyes that informed him to proceed with caution.

"With great energy," he allowed, "but it is always a subject which makes a lady energetic."

Her lips thinned at the last comment and she regarded him with a curious look.

"You are severe on us," she told him.

He was left with nothing to say to that—or most appropriately nothing to say that will improve her apparent dislike of his character though this, he could ascribe no reason for.

"It will be her turn soon to be teased," Miss Lucas remarked, taking herself off. "I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows."

 _Eliza,_ Fitzwilliam thought in increased fascination, _the sobriquet aptly suits the bearer_. At present, the look she let upon him was abandoned in favour of frowning at her friend.

"You are a very strange creature by way of a friend! Always wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invaluable; but as it is, I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers."

"But you must, Eliza," Miss Lucas persevered, "for if you do not do this for me, someone else will and that person might not be half as good as you are."

Elizabeth sighed in resignation and said; "Very well, if it must be so, it must."

With a glance towards Mr. Darcy that told him that she was not through with him yet, she said, "There is a fine old saying, which everybody here is of course familiar with- 'keep your breath to cool your porridge' - and I shall keep mine to swell my song."

He watched her go toward the musical instrument thinking about the night at the tavern and how she failed to recognize him still. He must not have made a particularly lasting impression on her memory then. The thought that she pretended crossed his mind but he dismissed the thought immediately. Nobody was as good as that—at least not to him, Fitzwilliam Darcy. He had a discerning eye and it was with the same eye that he had figured the plans of the scoundrel whose activities he was even now closely monitoring during his stay at Netherfield. Turning his attention to Elizabeth, he allowed that her performance was pleasing though she could do with a bit more lessons for excellence. Two songs later, she hurriedly left the instrument to her immediate sibling Mary, who it seemed had been impatiently in want of playing at the display the entire time he sister was at it.

As Mary applied herself at the instrument, Darcy expected Elizabeth to come back directly for him but he couldn't be more wrong. He was obviously forgotten as she made her way to the table where Miss Lucas was now seated with others of her sisters. In a bit of annoyance at the slight he knew really had to be deliberate, he squared his shoulders and endeavoured to listen to the sorry tunes coming off the instrument that Mary domineered. The third Benne sister was playing a concerto and her performance actually excelling more than her sister's was exerted with such affectedness and obvious display of vanity that it rendered the music quite insipid to Darcy's hearing.

Perhaps, he thought pensively, he was only biased in his judgement because of his preoccupation with the _other_ sister. At the end of the concerto, the last of the Bennet ladies applauded her loudly, engaging the same from their companions; some officers and other Lucas ladies present at the ball. Shortly, the entire team of officers and ladies took to a corner of the room to dance. At this time, Fitzwilliam was infinitely bored; having been thwarted in his objective of attending the ball and left to his own device by Bingley, his sisters and brother in law. He was not quick to notice that Sir William Lucas had come to stand beside him else he would have made his exit before the man opened his mouth to address him.

"What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished society."

Fitzwilliam considered himself hoodwinked into a conversation for the second time in that evening and he wasn't feeling particularly charmed by the happenstance.

"Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance."

The benevolent smile on his host's face irritated him to no end. "Your friend performs delightfully," the man continued and Darcy turned to see that Bingley indeed had joined the dancing fray. "I doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy," Sir William challenged.

The challenge captured his attention to look into the man's blue-eyed gaze wherein he saw a wealth of merriment at his expense.

"You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir," he ventured to ask.

"Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight," said the man most pleasurably before he added: "Do you often dance at St. James's?"

To that, Darcy had an unequivocal answer: "Never, sir."

His host was not a man to be easily warded off by such taciturn reply, however.

"Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?"

"It is a compliment which I never pay to any place if I can avoid it."

The conversation seized for a while and just when Darcy would have turned on his heels, Sir Williams piped up again.

"You have a house in town, I conclude?"

Darcy bowed slightly, seeing no need to answer otherwise. His companion saw that as an invitation to continue with his line of thought.

"I had once had some thought of fixing in town myself, for I am fond of superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of London would agree with Lady Lucas."

Darcy observed the statement to be one deliberately made toward engaging a reply from him- a reply that was not necessarily favourable towards the country folks. In this end, he saw that he must be a favourite subject under discussion by many in the society. The knowledge did not cause him undue stress; each individual was entitled to his own opinion and if those about _him_ were less than flattering, he could hardly take a cane to their backsides.

He was thinking these thoughts when he observed Elizabeth approach. Before Darcy could blink an eye, Sir William called to her.

"My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing?" he asked and without waiting to hear a response from her, turned to him: "Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you."

The frown of displeasure upon the said beauty's face went unnoticed by Sir William as he grabbed her hand and placed it in Darcy's who noticed the frown greatly. Elizabeth drew back her hand as if it was placed on hot coals. She expressed her discontentment to Sir William in some agitation.

"Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner."

Darcy heard the unspoken words that ended her gentle censure- "...least of all, not Mr. Darcy."

"But I would have asked had he not beat me to it," Fitzwilliam embellished. He knew that every woman liked to be flattered but apparently not Elizabeth. The look she pointed in his direction was so disbelieving that he grinned his contrite.

"But you did not," she said, "and even if you had, I would still have refused."

Sir William deemed to intercede on his companion's behalf here to no end but Miss Elizabeth remained uncommonly adamant in her refusal; finally excusing herself most politely. Sir William soon followed suit, granting Darcy respite of the undesired company at long last.

Lest he be besieged by other unwanted company, Darcy took himself to a quiet corner of the room. There he stood alone thinking again of Miss Elizabeth and what he knew of her when Miss Bingley came upon him. From his concerted effort to remain on his own, he knew that she must have singled him out.

"I can guess the subject of your reverie," said she to him, standing shoulder to shoulder with him though she was lesser in height.

"I should imagine not," he chuckled.

"You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner; in such society," she proceeded to tell him. "And indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the noise; the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all those people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!"

Her confidence in her supposition about his thoughts caused him immense amusement in the midst of his boredom.

"Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow."

Never having heard him in such praise of a woman, Caroline Bingley immediately observed her companion's face for signs of seriousness and was flummoxed to see that Mr. Darcy meant his every word.

"Pray tell Mr Darcy - which of the women in this place has got you so enthralled to the magnitude of quietly meditating about her and singing her praises to me?"

Mr. Darcy in likewise spirit with which Charles teased his sister proceeded to fearlessly bedazzle her with his reply.

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet," he announced simply.

A soft gasp followed his announcement and then: "Miss Elizabeth Bennet! I am all astonishment," she declared needlessly. Darcy could see her surprise written clearly across her dissatisfied expression. "How long has she been such a favourite?" she asked him. And then, trying for some semblance of composure, she added. "And pray, when am I to wish you joy?"

He decided that Caroline Bingley could destroy a man's peace of mind and quiet meditation at the very chance she got.

"That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask," he told her in scorn. "A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy."

Her reply if he actually had considered any romantic illusions to Elizabeth would sufficiently douse them: "Nay, if you are serious about it, I shall consider the matter is absolutely settled. You will be having a charming mother-in-law, indeed; and, of course, she will always be at Pemberley with you."

Caroline Bingley knew that Pemberley was his sanctuary and he hated any mention of anybody intruding upon it. To her words he made no reply, assuming an air of enduring lack of interest. Observing his silence and mistaking it for complacency towards her, Caroline began to paint horrid pictures of his life as from her opinion with Elizabeth Bennet should he get it into his head to propose to her.

"Why, I can imagine the whole of the family might just move in with her two! They are not so well off in the first place and..."

She must be unaware that he had stopped listening, offering her only his physical presence- for she hardly paused to draw breath in her one sided discourse.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Mr. Bennet listened to the chatter of his two youngest daughters with increasing concern for their wit- or lack of it thereof. He was engaged in sorting out the details of the half-year proceedings of his estate- an estate which only yielded about two thousand pounds a year and totally entailed in the absence of male heirs. His wife had failed to give him one to inherit the property and so upon his death, the estate would fall into the hands of Anthony Collins, a distant cousin of his who was also a reverend in a land far away. This would have been quite enough to give a concerned parent of five daughters much grieve, but not Mr. Bennet. His general principle of living was to live simply and with no worries and as such he couldn't be overly bothered by the fact that should he fall off the table and die, his daughters would be thrown out on their knickers by his cousin.

The idle talk of his two youngest daughters distracted him but a moment from his perusal of the papers in front of him and he found himself disbelieving of the ludicrousness of their talk. The talk centred mostly on the militia regiment that recently set base in the neighbourhoods of Meryton. Listening to their unintelligible discourse for a while, Mr. Bennet could surmise that the two silly girls had gathered their knowledge from their visits to their aunt, Mrs. Bennets' sister- Mrs. Phillips in Meryton. The woman's husband was a lawyer; a former apprentice of his wife's and _Mr. Bennet's_ wife's father upon whose death Mr. Phillips took over the trade. The man must have supplied his wife news of the officers acquired through his visits to wait on them while his wife supplied his daughters in turn with a bit of embellishment no doubt.

It was no wonder, thought Mr. Bennet, that his two youngest daughters' visit to their aunt's had become increasingly frequent in the past week. So glad he was to have them leave the house to attain some quiet that he had not suspected a thing of their foolishness. Now, all they filled his ears with were officer this and officer that.

Unable to withhold himself any longer, he commented drily; "From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but I am now convinced."

Their mother, who hitherto was busy making preparations for dinner assisted by Jane and Elizabeth while Mary practised at the piano, turned to him with some measure of offense at his words. "I am astonished, my dear, that you should be so ready to think your own children silly. If I wished to think slightly of anybody's children, it should not be of my own, however."

The girls whom she so willingly jumped to their defence were not as bothered about his remark as she. While Lydia continued her excessive praise of a Colonel Carter, Catherine only appeared mildly disturbed, but otherwise remained silent. Mr. Bennet proceeded to inform his wife that he couldn't be a hypocrite concerning the state of mind of his own daughters. His wife continued to defend the girls while they resumed their childish chatter. He wanted to announce to them all that he doubted any man in his sane mind- least of all an officer in the regimen- would want any of his two youngest daughters for a wife as they had scarce any wit or beauty to recommend them when their footman, Albert entered with a note.

"A note for Miss Jane," Albert announced and delivered the note to a surprised Jane.

Most of the correspondence in the house was usually to their father and it was as surprising to them all that she was the recipient of such a fanciful note.

"It came from Netherfield and the servant awaits a reply," added the footman before he retreated out of the room.

"My goodness! From Netherfield he said; it can be from none other than Mr. Bingley! I did say he was smitten by Jane's beauty, did I not?" Mrs. Bennet beamed proudly and bid her daughter haste to read it and tell them all what the letter contained.

"It is from Miss Bingley," Jane finally announced much to the disappointment of her mother and the amusement of her father. Reading out the content of the letter, it could be gathered that Caroline Bingley had singled Jane out specifically for a day's visit at Netherfield as a result of the men in the house out on dinner with the officers in Meryton. The later news excited Lydia to no end and she complained that she hadn't heard this from her aunt. Everybody ignored her except perhaps Catherine who nodded in distraction at her comment.

"Can I have the carriage?" Jane asked her father, but it was her mother who replied.

"No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain; and then you must stay all night."

The sky indeed looked dark and heavy with immense downpour. The plot behind her mother's remark was not lost on the household- were Jane to go on horseback _and_ it rained, the Netherfield occupants could not send her home and she would be able to meet with Mr. Bingley whenever he returned from his dinner visit to the officers.

"That would be a good scheme if you were sure that they would not offer to send her home," Elizabeth observed.

To this, Mrs Bennet had a ready reply. She could be incredibly resourceful when she put her mind to it. "Oh! But the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley's chaise to go to Meryton, and the Hursts have no horses to theirs," she argued most conveniently.

Jane expressed her worry at this and emphasized the need for a coach to go in, but Mrs. Bennet persuaded upon her husband to agree that _he_ needed the coach more on the farm than _she_ needed it to go to Netherfield in. The case was thus settled that Jane would go on horseback; and the waiting servant from Netherfield was sent off with a message that Jane would soon be upon them at Netherfield.

Scarcely had Jane rode off away from the house and into the distance when the first drop of rain visited upon the earth and Mrs. Bennet was very much inordinately pleased with her plan. Mr. Bennet in the recess of his mind thought that he could not be made to venture far in obtaining intelligence from whence his two youngest daughters inherited their silliness.

Jane Bennet was much disposed to turning back for Longbourn as the rain increased in intensity. Although she had thought to take necessary precautions such as an extra layer of petticoat, a full bodice dress, long thick garters and a full brim hat- courtesy of her mother's incessant foreboding of the rain and Elizabeth's gentle insistence, it ill sufficed the cold wind and large rain drops that pelted her from all sides as she rode the horse towards Netherfield. At first, she had delighted in the coolness of the drops and enjoyed the soft breeze that accompanied them.

The horse, Delilah, was a favourite of hers. Her father's estate did not have too many horses to its credit and those available were mostly used in the farm. Only a few were spared for transportation and this one was Jane's favourite. It was mild mannered, sped with the wind and was really easy to handle. So, she had Delilah gallop over fields and grasses in the rain, laughing joyously at each jump and splash.

Until the wind took a turn for the worse and the rain began to drop faster and bigger.

There was such increase in the turn of the rain that soon, the enjoyment was none so good and gradually, the laughter died from her gay lips. In its place was a shivering so bad that she nigh convinced herself to turn back; however, sensibility kept her hands firmly on the reigns- she was halfway near Netherfield already and it would take the same distance to reach back to Longbourn that it would take to proceed to Netherfield. Turning back would mean she had suffered the rain in vain; thus, it was not a desirable option. Moreover, she could imagine that her mother would not forgive her for what she would consider a personal affront to her and Jane so hated to argue with her mother. So she continued to kick the side of the horse, spurring it on towards Netherfield despite the cold and pains in her hands and back.

In the recess of her mind, she admitted that apart from the concerted sufferings employed to deliver her to Netherfield without a chaise in the eventuality of the rain, she also would dearly love to see Mr. Bingley.

"Yee-haw!" she called to Delilah to move faster.

For what seemed like the longest time in her young years, she came into the view of the house at long last. The house seemed bigger than she remembered to her weary eyes and Jane could swear that there were now two of them.

As she neared the front door, a footman ran out of the house and forward to her with a parasol. Gingerly, she stepped off the horse, shaking with the cold and almost tumbling into the man's arms.

"Th-thank yo-you," she stumbled out to the footman.

Fearing to drip all over the fine thick rug covering the panelled floor of the waiting room, she absolutely refused to go inside the house regardless of the efforts of the footman to make her do just so. It took the appalled appearances of Caroline Bingley and Mrs. Hurst to convince her otherwise and this she did with utmost care and regard for the rug.

"Do not act so, my dear Miss Bennet; make haste so that we can get you out of those wet clothes without delay!" Miss Bingley scolded.

The sharp words revived Jane to her senses like no hot water could and she sprang up the stairs to the room where she was shown. As she was already expected to arrive in the rain- though in a chaise and not on horseback, none was too surprised at her appearance, but her cold state caused quite a commotion.

"Rose, do step on those feet and get a bath tub of water to the spare room above stairs this instant!" Mrs Hurst snapped at one of the maids who jumped to do her bidding as if a whip had been cracked.

"I must get dry clothes from my room," cried Caroline, "to think I am responsible for your predicament..."

Jane felt increasingly mortified at the trouble she seemed to cause everyone and it seemed her shivering had a mind of its own; she couldn't stop it to save the worries and commotion despite her best efforts.

"I am sorry," she kept on murmuring even though those came out in most disjointedly owning to the shivers of her lips.

"Oh, Miss Bennet," Mrs. Hurst said sympathetically, shaking her head at her.

At last, after a soak in a hot bath tub of water, a change of clothes and warm tea down her throat, she felt minimally better and able to present herself below stairs to the ladies of the house. Her first step into the breakfast-parlour was announced by a very loud sneeze and then another followed closely by yet another.

"Oh dear, I think Miss Bennet had caught a cold," Miss Bingley exclaimed.

Indeed, Jane thought she had. It seemed her nose listened to Miss Bingley and it suddenly became filled with water. Only then did she begin to feel the tell tale signs of a headache in her temple and she raised a hand to it. It felt hot. She wondered how her temple could feel so hot when she had just been out in the rain.

"I think the cold would disappear with your company and goodwill," she said decidedly, walking bravely into the room to join the ladies.

Another round of sneeze, worse than the first called her a liar to her face.

"I am afraid that this will not do," Mrs. Hurst declared. "I will suggest that you retire to bed under heavy blankets to ward off the cold."

"I will have the maids put up a fire for you too," Miss Bingley added, leaving the room at once to do as she said.

"I hate to be so much trouble," complained Jane.

"Such nonsense!" dismissed Mrs. Hurst. "You did not plan the making of the rain nor would you know of its imminence even if you tried."

Jane silently thought about her mother's predictions and connivance that she took the horse instead of a chaise and knew that she had earned what she deserved by acting so.

As she was led up the stairs a second time, she found herself wishing that she had not acted so rashly and at the same time hoping that her illness would be gone soonest. Were she to see Mr. Bingley, she detested to see him in a state of malady for she was afraid that he might surmise that she was a sickly woman which couldn't be further from the truth.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

"Sometimes, it is best that one sees the road before embarking on a journey to the unknown," Colonel Forster was saying while chewing around a mouthful of salmon.

The entire dinner table of soldiers, Charles Bingley, Fitzwilliam Darcy and Mr. Hurst murmured their agreement to the sentiment expressed so wittily; well, all with the exception of Mr. Bingley. Charles Bingley was preoccupied with watching the colonel with the fascination of an ardent admirer. Anyone of the occupants on the large table who deigned to glance in his general direction would notice the attention he fixed upon the colonel; so intent was he on his study of the man. What such observer would fail to recognize was that it was hardly the colonel's uniform, ridiculously bent moustache or even the intelligent words that fell off the man's crooked lips that caused this rapt attention from Charles Bingley. Rather, it was the fact that to Bingley, Colonel Forster was achieving a feat he hitherto had thought impossible through his eating habit. Before, Bingley could never imagine that conversation could be made around a mouthful of food, but the colonel had just demonstrated that it was something of a possibility.

Watching the colonel talk around his food without choking was perhaps the most interesting thing Charles Bingley had done the entire afternoon. Unlike his friend, Darcy, who seemed to have genuine interest in the happenings around the states; and his in-law, Mr. Hurst, who was replete with so much food that he could only nod and murmur in consent to everything under discourse, Bingley saw no reason to muster up false interest in the conversation flowing about the table which centred majorly on wars around the globe and the unrest in Great Britain. He doubted if any of the gentlemen noticed the rain falling outside.

He would rather endeavour to imitate the colonel's habit and, thus, see for himself how possible the feat was. Scarcely had he shoved a rather large morsel of bacon into his mouth when the officer seated next to Darcy on his right side addressed him.

"It seemed you do not have a fancy for the militia," the man observed.

He was Mr. Denny—Norman Denny. From all intelligence that George had gathered seated silently on the table as he had all evening, he was content to see that the officers were content to sit on the table and converse about wars and unrest while leaving him aside to observe them. Charles did not mind the exclusion in the least and thereupon, mildly wondered what it was that shifted the officer's attention to himself. Perhaps, he wondered, it was the large bacon even now sticking on his lips. Hurriedly, he drew the hanging bacon into his mouth and made to reply to the question addressed to him- and promptly choked. After several slaps on the back, as administered by Darcy and two full cups of water, he was revived to his healthy self with a decision in mind- the feat of making conversation with a mouthful of bacon was achievable, but only for the likes of Colonel Forster.

Most fortunately, the subject of his disinterest in the conversation around the table was forgotten by his little table 'accident' and when it was over, Mr. Denny did not reiterate his question. In fact, he was now talking about repairing to London during the approaching weekend for a few days before returning to Meryton.

"And the purpose of your visit- if you wouldn't think me too rude to ask?" Darcy asked the man. "I thought officers were not at liberty to leave their base at will."

Bingley thought it quite curious that his friend had interest in such matter as the travels of a military officer, but the man took no offense in his reply.

"You are right Mr. Darcy; but the truth is that I have been summoned and thus the reason. The note impressed upon us the potential addition of a new commission to our corps and I am saddled with the responsibility of escorting him down here along with some other such small tasks in town."

Darcy nodded his head as if _he_ had just received uncommon intelligence and proceeded to visit the meal in front of him which he had barely touched all evening.

The end of the meal was vast relief for Bingley; fortunately the rain had stopped and he was of the first to jump up in his seat and express how time had flown in the company of such fine men. This was not said in mockery or irony; far from it. Bingley meant his every word because through the discourse, he had learnt such small things from his quiet observations that he was certain he would not encounter elsewhere save during dinner with officers of a military regiment. Unlike Darcy who enjoyed the company of the men based on the discourse, and Mr. Hurst who enjoyed only the food immensely, Bingley enjoyed the evening only based on his removed observations. The officers were not excluded from becoming affected with words of praise and beamed at Bingley for calling them 'fine gentlemen'. His sincerity was seen in his eyes and felt in his handshake and everyone concluded that it was indeed an evening well spent in the best of company.

Mr. Hurst promptly fell asleep as soon as they were settled into the chaise.

In the chaise and on the ride back to Netherfield, Darcy mentioned his observation that Bingley was studying the officers rather than partake in the discussion. He then entreated that his friend render to him an account of the different personalities of the officers that he was able to gain intelligence thereof. Bingley obliged most willingly- taking it upon himself to regale Darcy with his observations in the process of dining with the 'fine gentlemen' officers.

"While Colonel Forster seems a strong solid man of repute, I would rather say that he is too rigid in his opinions- he cannot be easily persuaded on a matter, I am afraid."

Darcy nodded, the colonel's staunchness was commendable but he was inclined to be unbendable in so many a matters like in his opinion that Great Britain move forward to demolish all French army.

"As for Officer Denny, he is quite young- twenty and three, I would say; but his strength of character is admirable." Bingley continued, "That one is as plain as paper and I daresay that he can be loyal to boot for a cause he deems worthy."

And so did the analysis of the militia characters engage the attention of the two gentlemen as they rode on to Netherfield while Mr. Hurst slept on. The road was rough and their chaise fell into a puddle a number of times, but they both were scarcely aware, so engrossed were they. Mr. Hurst also did not awaken, indeed his snores increased with each shake of the carriage. Upon entering into Netherfield, Bingley was immediately set upon by his sisters while Mr. Hurst immediately sought his bed in a drowsy manner. As a consequence of the rain and cold in the air, Bingley expected that his sisters would be in bed; Caroline especially detested to be up on a rainy night, but they obviously had been waiting for him.

"Miss Bennet is here- I invited her to visit and I am afraid that she has caught a terrible cold while riding here on horseback," Caroline informed him immediately.

For a moment, Charles could not fathom what she spoke: "Jane?" he asked stupidly.

"Of course, Charles; how could you ask?" Caroline cried. "Which other Miss Bennet did you think I would invite? Jane is the only agreeable one of the lot!"

"Keep your vice down, Caroline, she might hear you," Mrs. Hurst whispered.

Charles ignored the drama and asked, "She caught a cold, you say? Where is she then?"

"Above stairs in the room next to mine- lucky thing it was not too dirty; I had it dusted out immediately upon her arrival seeing her in that sorry state," Mrs. Hurst declared proudly.

Bingley was already bounding up the stairs with Darcy on his tail, leaving the women no other alternative but to follow. He hoped that her situation was not bad; he would hate to see such fine woman laid down on a case of illness.

They saw Jane Bennet sitting up in bed, reading a book.

"I had no idea that you were awake," Caroline cried, flushing guiltily as she shared a look with her sister.

"I roused but a few moments ago and found that sleep eluded me. Thinking you must all be in bed thereat, I sought the solace of a book to lull me back to sleep," Jane explained.

"And the cold?" Bingley asked, gazing upon her face in sympathy and tenderness.

"Gone, thank you for your kindness," Jane smiled warmly, "and you too- Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst; I wouldn't have such speedy recovery save your kindly care."

"Make no mention of it," said Caroline.

"Would you like some food or perhaps, broth?" Mrs. Hurst inquired.

"No, nothing at all," Miss Bennet murmured with a little reticence in her voice.

"I think that Miss Bennet is overwhelmed by our profuse attention," Darcy commented drily, having been observing the lady lying down in the bed in layers of cloth and a wrapper closely wrapped around her form. "Since she declares her cold gone, I believe we should retire and let the book lull her back to sleep as she originally planned."

Miss Bennet smiled gratefully at him as they all took to his advice and left the room, each thinking different thoughts as they did. Miss Bingley was thinking what wonderful people they really all were upon this further acquaintance; she had also seen the worry in Mr. Bingley's eyes for her and inwardly delighted in what it may represent. The Bingley sisters were glad that the day was finally over and they could seek their beds. Darcy's mind was back to the intelligence he had gathered from his dining with the officers. Bingley was thinking that he had never beheld a lady more handsome than Miss Bennet; she looked particularly pretty with her hair let down her back and her eyes calm from sleep.

In another half an hour, the entire house was as quiet as a graveyard.

Jane Bennet felt worse for wear in the next morning. Her throat ached, her eyes burned and her nose was running something fierce. Worst of all was the fever that ravaged her body. Mr. Bingley was the first to check on her as soon as he arose from bed and she beseeched upon his kindness to summon the ladies to attend to her. She made no mention of her predicament to him but one look at her flushed face informed him of her state and he made haste to send a servant to call on Mr. Jones, the local apothecary, as soon as he dispatched Caroline to Miss Bennet's bedside. He then went to inform Miss Bennet that she would be unable to leave for Longbourn until the apothecary arrived, attended to her and deemed her fit to travel.

With weak hands, Miss Jane Bennet wrote a note to her sister, Elizabeth, to inform her of the deterioration in her health status lest they worried when she failed to reach home. Caroline Bingley received the note from her and remitted it to a servant to deliver to Longbourn with alacrity. Then, she had the cook make broth for Miss Bennet and attended to her till Mr. Jones made an appearance.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Elizabeth Bennet was most impatient to arrive at Netherfield. She was of the opinion that her two sisters had caused more delay in her journey than increase her pace of travel. Catherine and Lydia had volunteered to accompany her as far as Meryton on her walk to see Jane upon receiving her letter earlier in the morning.

"How can you be so silly as to think of such a thing, in all this dirt!" her mother had cried in horror when she made known her decision to walk to Netherfield for the sole purpose of seeing Jane as a means of ascertaining her health status. "You will not be fit to be seen when you get there."

Her reply that being fit to see Jane was all that she desired had halted any other opposition from Mrs. Bennet, while Mr. Bennet informed her of the application of the horses on the farm. She had thus affirmed her willingness to walk the distance to which Mary said:

"I admire the activity of your benevolence, but every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and in my opinion, exertion should always be in proportion to what is required."

Elizabeth had disregarded her selfish comment, reminding them all that it was at their prompt that Jane had gone despite the threat of rain and as such, they were all responsible in a way for her illness. It was then that the twins had volunteered their company all the way to Meryton and Elizabeth gratefully accepted. However, the twins had a penchant of dallying over scenes and people that interested them such that Elizabeth was certain that her journey might have fared better in their absence. However, their company was pleasant as always and perhaps, she might have enjoyed it better were it not for her anxiety for Jane.

Presently, they reached Meryton and the twins waved her off, requesting that she gave Jane their warmest regards and well wishes for a speedy recovery. Elizabeth acquiesced, promising that she would do as they wished and continued on her journey, widening her steps as her legs would allow.

The letter had indicated that Jane only had a sore throat and a headache but Elizabeth worried that her condition was indeed worse; she knew her sister- Jane was ever careful not to stir trouble and would therefore deliberately make little of her plight. The rain of the day before made the journey particularly difficult to navigate as puddles filled the earth and where there were no puddles, the earth was wet causing no small amount of dirt to cling to her long dress. This, Elizabeth scarcely noticed- her main purpose was to reach Jane.

A gentleman was calling for Miss Caroline Bingley.

The news so astounded the inhabitants of the house that it was considered a veritable mistake in its occurrence. It was none so close to noon and the visit was most unwelcomed by the woman sought who had only just awoken from sleep and finished with her toilettes.

She received the man in the parlour, coming down the stairs with an air of discontentment at the intrusion so early in the morning.

"My lady," the man bowed when she approached him.

Miss Caroline sighed in annoyance. The man was none other than Jeremy Sheffield with whom she had danced once on their first ball since repairing to Netherfield and another time at Sir Williams. He was also the son of Netherfield's closest neighbour. Perhaps, he thought as a consequence of the dance, he was therefore familiar with her and as such could call on her any time of the day. Caroline Bingley could barely wait to set him straight on this errant thought. She had no desire to befriend any of the country folks.

"Mr. Sheffield," she said in a voice filled with indifference for his generous smile and courtesy. "Is it commonplace in the country to call upon a lady before noon?"

The ridiculous man failed to grasp the sarcasm in her address but sat himself after she did and responded with good nature. "Yes indeed, it is here; we are all early risers in the country and as such, calling is just so."

To this, Caroline designed not to reply because she feared that she might insult the man directly were she to utter a word in response to his folly.

"To what do I own this unsolicited visit then?" she asked impatiently.

"I would like to seek your permission—and your brother's, of course, to court you," the man announced without prelude or pretence.

The announcement so shocked Caroline that she was unable to withhold the laughter precipitated thereof. Her laughter lasted a full minute in its entirety and when she raised her head to observe the man and ascertain her hearing capacity, the confused look set upon his face set her into another fit of amusement. Achieving composure at last, she addressed the man, a little of her mirth still evident on her face.

"Are you saying, Mr. Sheffield, that you wish to propose to me?" she asked.

For his stupidity alone, Caroline thought that Jeremy Sheffield deserved to be hanged. The clueless man nodded and reiterated his desire to court her. His attitude informed Caroline that nothing but a clear refusal will set him on his way. He was obviously obtuse and too thick in the head to adhere to anything less than a firm decline said in the most stately manner. A remembrance of Charles' taunting premonition about a proposal from a country gentleman caused her to tighten her resolve to nip this nonsense in the bud. No doubt, Charles would still laugh at her for this realization of his premonition and Caroline decided that Jeremy Sheffield was to blame. She did not propose to be nice to him. Thus, she proceeded to inform him that she was from the town and he, from the country. She informed him of their difference in social class and standard; reminding him that he was only the son of a clothes' merchant while she had twenty thousand pounds for her dowry alone. They were entirely too set apart to be anything but neighbours.

Jeremy Sheffield left Netherfield with his tail hanging between his legs most mortified and rightly put in his place as Caroline Bingley saw fit. He met with Elizabeth Bennet, riding on his horse and away from Netherfield, but he made no greeting to her nor did he respond to hers.

Everyone in the household was seated in the breakfast-parlour, evidently in the process of eating breakfast when Elizabeth was shown to the room. Even though she had not given the man more than a few thoughts since the last time they conversed at Sir William's ball, Elizabeth was disconcerted that the first pair of eyes to draw hers was those of Mr. Darcy. He looked quite astonished to see her also.

"Miss Bennet! Why in the world are you looking like... _this_?" Miss Bingley cried in embarrassment.

"I am afraid I had to walk from Longbourn all the way here whereupon my receipt of Jane's note," she told them plainly. "Our horses are otherwise engaged on the farm."

Her announcement had the impact of a gunshot. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst gasped loudly, Mr. Hurst's gaze sharpened, looking at Elizabeth most critically, Mr. Bingley stood on his feet to approach her and Mr. Darcy shook his head slightly. Feeling impatient to see Jane, she fretted on her feet and her gaze found Mr. Darcy's again; and, he was regarding her with a most satirical eye- no doubt, he must think her reckless for her walk and in consequence her dirty look but she couldn't care what he thought. Impatiently, she turned her gaze to the rest and she was greeted with a semblance of his expression excepting Mr. Bingley's who stood was now in front of her, regarding her with warmth and kindness and something akin to gratitude.

"I will take you to see her immediately," he informed her and did just so.

A maid was in the process of cleaning the room when Bingley and Elizabeth walked in and the maid surreptitiously left the room. Jane cried in weak delight on seeing her sister and Mr. Bingley smiled kindly- he was certain that Jane's recovery could only be quicker with her sister in attendance. He left the sisters by themselves and made his way back to the breakfast parlour.

"I knew you hadn't told the whole truth in your note!" Elizabeth exclaimed upon feeling Jane's temple which burned her hand fiercely.

So weak was Jane that she could scarcely articulate coherently and Elizabeth bid her not to say a word; she then set about the business of making her sister comfortable and cooling her body with water and a rag cloth. An hour later, the apothecary made an appearance to attend to Jane. Mr. Jones declared Jane imposed upon by a most veracious cold and warned against troubling her. With a promise of some draughts to ease the cough and headache, he left. Elizabeth was most disturbed by his pronouncement and began to feel guilty for the part she played in Jane's illness- her failure to speak sense into Jane about riding on horseback with darks clouds of rain apparent imputed an enduring feeling of remorse on her. What she would give to make her sister recover, she thought in despair.

Though she loathed to leave her sister in such unrepairing condition, when it was nigh evening, she stood to go to which a carriage offer was made in prevention of her taking the long walk again. However, Jane protested to her going and the entire household bid her stay too. To this she agreed to stay with Jane for as long as it took for her sister to recover. No idea had she that she and Jane would be staying nigh a week and that she would in this manner, come close to changing her opinions of Mr. Darcy and everyone else in the household for that matter.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

 _The dreadful man was looking at her again._

Elizabeth Bennet could not for the life of her understand why it seemed to her that the watchful gaze of Mr. Darcy persisted on herself. Dinner was over and after having attended her sister and put her to sleep most comfortably, Elizabeth had joined the others in the drawing room. The night being her third night at Netherfield, Elizabeth fancied that she knew something of the characters of the people in the house to gain some peace for herself and not feel much of an intrusion in their affairs; a way she had been made to feel by the Bingley sisters and Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Bingley was the embodiment of warmth and welcome. and He took no part in the contrivance, albeit that in itself was done most unwittingly; unwittingly done of the Bingley women because it was in their nature to act unpleasantly to anyone whom did not arouse in them a feeling of superiority and of Darcy because his attractions to Miss Elizabeth could find no other channel but aloof indifference.

In the course of the few days that Elizabeth had spent in the house, she had seen it all. From the very first day, she had been abused and gossiped about— at first, because of her state of arrival; and then later because of her impertinence in observing her views and also in stating them. Also, she had seen her sister well attended by the Bingley women contrary to their treatment of _herself;_ for that she decided to be civil in her interactions with them. Her stay also had brought her in interaction with Mr. Bingley and she couldn't seize her admiration for the man's kindness and solicitude towards her sister; his was the only genuine emotions she could accord any respect and acknowledgement and her profuse thanks were always waved away by him whenever she chanced to mention it. Mr. Hurst was as unmoved as a stranger by her continued stay and she couldn't have exchanged more words with him than she could count on all fingers of a hand.

As for Mr. Darcy, he was a bit of all the characters in the house rolled into one individual. Sometimes, he was decidedly civil towards her; other times, he ignored her; but from time to time, she fancied that he liked her a bit. However, since she had no means of knowing which of his reactions to her were his true nature and she very well could not ask him, she took the option of ignoring him and addressing him only when the situation direly called for it. As a consequence, their verbal exchange was vastly limited.

However, what she found most curious about Mr. Darcy since her stay in the house was something she had no reason to conjecture but this she did—at odd times, such as when they encountered on the stairwell especially at night with flickering torches on the wall, she was besieged with a feeling that she _had_ met Mr. Darcy before the Meryton assembly. Knowing the impossibility of moving in the same social circle before his arrival at Netherfield assured her that _she_ hadn't, and the knowledge that she wasn't an accomplished traveller and so, they couldn't have met elsewhere. Nonetheless, the feeling persisted still.

Earlier in the day, she had requested her mother to visit Jane through a note delivered by a servant and her mother had hastened to comply, with her two youngest daughters. The three, her mother especially, had caused Elizabeth no small amount of embarrassment and discomfiture that she was infinitely pleased to see their backs. All entreaties to move Jane and follow her mother had fallen on deaf ears as her mother schemed for her and Jane; Jane especially, to continue their stay at Netherfield for her matchmaking purposes to yield positively. Her mother's obstinacy was seconded by the apothecary who came visiting close to that time. He declared Jane unfit for moving out of the house for a travel and pronounced that she continued to stay exactly where she lay. And, thus, went Elizabeth's wish to leave the party's company for the solace of her own people.

The chain of events of the day was tiresome and her only consolation was that Jane's pallor appeared better than it was when she arrived, but three days ago. So after she drifted off into sleep, Elizabeth had left her to sit in the drawing room mostly because she sought to hear what pronouncement of the family; on _her_ family; particularly Mr. Darcy- he and her mother had had some kind of disagreement. Saying unkind things as she often overhead Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst as soon she turned her back was petty and she detested it greatly. She would rather they said it all whilst she was in their midst- if they dared.

However, nothing of what she thought to hear was said as the occupants in the room were otherwise engaged in a business that was entirely theirs to comprehend. Mr. Bingley and his brother in law played at cards with their sole observer being Mrs. Hurst. Miss Bingley was too busy observing Mr. Darcy in his business of writing a letter which through listening to their rather tasteless discourse, Elizabeth surmised that it was to Mr. Darcy's young sister in his home at Pemberley. Taking up some needle work was the only recourse which she saw and this, Elizabeth did with repletion.

None so much as acknowledged her entry, but Mr. Bingley who smiled kindly and asked after Jane. Elizabeth soon became weary of Miss Bingley's excessive praises of Mr. Darcy's penmanship and was saved from uttering a caustic riposte by her brother himself.

"That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline, because he does not write with ease. He studies too much for words of four syllables. Do not you, Darcy?" Mr. Bingley admonished when his sister uttered something about writing well simply because a person wrote at length.

"My style of writing is very different from yours," returned the man under discussion.

"Oh! Charles writes in the most careless way imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest," interrupted the faithless sister.

And so began an argument that bordered around Mr. Bingley's penmanship- or lack of thereof as enthusiastically pointed out by his friend and seconded by his sister before it came to rest upon one of Mr. Bingley's statements in the morning to her mother. The argument was not so much in favour of Mr. Darcy and alas, it was soon quieted. Elizabeth couldn't check her thoughts that Mr. Darcy was a very sore loser as he went back to attending his letter.

His letter done with and dispatched, the man entreated for a piece of music of her and Miss Bingley to which Elizabeth declined, permitting Miss Bingley sole occupancy of the pianoforte which she did most grandly. Her singing was thus accompanied by her sister who came to take the chair close to Elizabeth.

It was during the music rendition that Elizabeth observed Mr. Darcy's eyes on herself. This attention flabbergasted Elizabeth. His relation with her thus far that she had been in the house was cordial at most and to be held in contempt on the other extreme end. Elizabeth, therefore, saw no reason for this new interest in her. Thinking of it, she decided that he must have found something abominable about her person or looks, but that either gave no cause for a prolonged look in her direction. She only just decided to ignore him when he came over to address her directly.

"Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?" he asked.

Indeed Miss Bingley was creating a lively air with an Italian song, but Elizabeth failed to see how it suddenly seemed to entice Mr. Darcy into asking her for a dance. She held on to her silence and perusal of a music book and Mr. Darcy fancied that she hadn't heard him and thus repeated his question.

"Oh, I heard you before, but I could not immediately determine what to say in reply," she revealed to him with a smile on her face. "You wanted me, I know, to say, 'Yes,' that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt. I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell you, that I do not want to dance a reel at all—and now despise me if you dare."

He said that he dared not—throwing Elizabeth into yet another surprise.

She was saved from making a reply by Mr. Darcy's obvious admirer whose admiration was not requited. Miss Caroline suddenly terminated the song and hastened to them both. Their proximity was quite alarming to her in spite that a small child could be safely tucked in between them, apart as they stood.

"Mr. Darcy, what did you think of my rendition just now?" she asked with an air of impatience. "I should think I comfortably fit into the list of half a dozen of accomplished women in your acquaintance."

Elizabeth smiled inwardly. She felt the insult aimed in her direction but she ignored it. It was only another day in the house on Netherfield.

The content of Elizabeth and Darcy's conversation was relayed to Caroline by her sister, with no small amounts of embellishments. Caroline was vastly annoyed by this new intelligence and she sought to do all in her might to discourage Mr. Darcy on the path that he was in the process of threading. In her opinion, the likes of Miss Elizabeth Bennet were conceited and impertinent, employing the tactics of a female rooster in engaging the attractions of the opposite sex- running around under pretence of disinterest while the male was unable to help its intrigue and as such gave chase until the female succumbed. Something had to be done so that the female rooster stopped attracting the attention of the male.

It was such thoughts that thus provoked Miss Caroline Bingley into a scheme on the next morning. In a bid to show Elizabeth Bennet her rightful place in life, which was nowhere near Mr. Darcy, she plotted with her sister. Their plot was typical of their character; inept and lacking in ingenuity.

After breakfast, Elizabeth repaired to her sister's bedside to check upon her status. Seeing it greatly improved, she sat a while before making an appearance in the drawing room and she had barely stepped her foot in the room when Mrs. Hurst invited her for a walk along the garden path. Some quarter of an hour later, Caroline invited Mr. Darcy for the same.

Walking the path most regally as a queen, Caroline commented on what a fine day it was, eliciting a short mumble of an agreement from her companion. Smiling like a veritable urchin, she fancied that she knew the topic to unglue the lips of her companion and proceeded to introduce it.

"I hope," said she, changing the subject under discourse, "you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue; and if you can compass it, do cure the younger girls of running after officers. And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavour to check that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence, which your lady possesses."

"Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?" replied Mr. Darcy.

The smile lingered on Miss Bingley's face. It was exactly as she thought. Delighted that she now had his sole attention, she continued the discourse, covertly taking a step closer to his tall form.

"Oh! Yes," she cried in all seriousness. "Do let the portraits of your uncle and Aunt Phillips be placed in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great-uncle, the judge. They are in the same profession, you know, only in different lines. As for your Elizabeth's picture, you must not have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?"

She still held bitterness that he contrived to conceive _her_ eyes beautiful. Why, Caroline thought, the eyes were rather plain and could certainly never be comparable to _her own_ eyes. Mr. Darcy must mean this business about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's eyes as a joke; only that the joke was beginning to grow weary on her.

"It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression," replied her companion, "but their colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied."

It was on the tip of her tongue to disprove the nonsense about the eyes when the figure of the she-devil under discourse and Mrs. Hurst appeared around a shrubbery on their way into the garden. The frown hitherto brought to Miss Bingley's face was quick to dissipate upon the sight and she fixed Mr. Darcy with a simpering gaze that bordered on pleasure on something _he_ had said.

"That is so flattering of you, Mr. Darcy," she said coquettishly. "Why, I didn't know you had it in you to be so endearing."

Mr. Darcy cast a look in her direction in utter disbelief. She saw a knowing look dawn upon his face before he frowned and looked upon the approaching ladies. Caroline quickly turned her attention to the ladies, too, remembering the subject of their exchange and hoping that their voices hadn't carried to Miss Elizabeth's ears. Raptures about her eyes would further inflate her existing impudence, Caroline was afraid.

"I did not know that you intended to walk," she said to Elizabeth and her sister, even though she did.

Her gaze fixed briefly on her sister's and from the absence of intelligence on her feature, surmised that none of the women had heard her and Mr. Darcy talk. Her relief was immense.

"You used us abominably ill," Mrs. Hurst declared, continuing the charade that her sister introduced, "running away without telling us that you were coming out."

As planned, Mrs. Hurst took hold of Mr. Darcy's disengaged arm, the other firmly held on to by Miss Bingley, the action thus leaving Elizabeth by herself and looking up at the three like an insurmountable wall.

"This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the avenue," Mr. Darcy said, frowning in turn at both sisters to his left and right.

And there, Caroline would have thrown in the most charming part of their plot- that Miss Elizabeth was only a visitor in the house and as such, surely, she did not expect to walk on the arms of Mr. Darcy; _she_ could walk behind them, she would suggest most innocently. However, Elizabeth thwarted her plan by saying:

"No, no; stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and appear to uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a fourth. Good-bye."

And with that, she ran off away from them into the house, leaving the trio standing and watching her go, with Miss Bingley in great vexation.


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Seven long hours passed before Fitzwilliam laid his eyes on the figure of Miss Elizabeth at dinner.

After the drama enacted by the Bingley women, which he could not be contrived upon to believe was less than deliberate, he had promptly taken his leave of their company and gone to the stable for his horse. Though he had no business to attend to outside Netherfield, he saddled the horse and took off. He had spent another hour or two or three; he could not say for certain for he was too deep in thoughts, deliberating upon his entrancement with Elizabeth Bennet.

Fitzwilliam detested deceit and he believed that it was the greatest injustice to deceive oneself especially; thus he was honest enough to acknowledge to himself the truth of his fascination. He fancied Elizabeth Bennet more than he ought to…and more than she deserved from the ilk of him. Judging from the constant repair of his thoughts to her, he figured that her lowly connections in the world would have but been of little consequence; he would have perhaps encouraged a closer relationship with her regardless of Miss Bingley's wiles. However, her repute was doubt-worthy in his sight and this; he was disinclined to forgive as easily as he acknowledged her fine eyes.

Close observation of her character did not reveal to him her true nature which he observed at the tavern and he consented that she was a great actress to lead two separate lives so.

His uncharitable thoughts toward her, however, in no way abated his enthusiasm to see her during dinner and he had scarcely been able to draw his eyes away from her figure in the entire course of the meal. After dinner, she removed above stairs again to her sister while they all removed to their rooms. Bingley engaged the time to apprise Darcy of the invitation to a hunting game he received in the noon and together, they decided on their plans to honour it or not. Having decided to honour the invitation- it was from Colonel Forster - they each decided to move in the direction of the drawing room to join the ladies.

Fitzwilliam was pleasantly surprised to behold the atmosphere in the room. It was one of easy companionship that can only be attributed to the presence of Jane in the room. Caroline was in the process of describing a happenstance to Jane, who was settled comfortably in a corner with the liveliest spirit he could yet attribute to her. Mrs. Hurst was smiling in a way that included her entire face- another feat he had previously thought impossible. Even Miss Elizabeth was smiling, underlining her fine eyes to perfection- her face was animated with relaxation and joy and once more, Fitzwilliam found himself further captivated by her.

The little party for the women, however, disbanded as soon as the women observed him, Bingley and Mr. Hurst appear in the room. Jane Bennet seized to be entertained any longer as Caroline turned to him instantly. He expressed his pleasure at Jane Bennet's evident recovery to Elizabeth in as much civil voice as he could manage- in accordance to his new resolve to be wary of her; while Charles did so with the greatest display of joy and true delight. Mr. Hurst only demonstrated some semblance of an acknowledging bow in Elizabeth's general direction that annoyed Fitzwilliam for no plausible reason.

Miss Bennet acknowledge their congratulations with demure smiles and appreciation for their care while Elizabeth expressed sincerely, how glad she was to have her sister in good health and, thus, hinted of their impending removal to Longbourn.

Ensuring to take his seat furthest away from Elizabeth, he was soon ordered on his feet again by Charles who fancied that Miss Bennet might catch a cold again and declared a need to build a fire. Both men were thus engaged for a brief period of time until Bingley declared the fire warm enough to ward off any cold that dared to threaten Miss Bennet's health. Thereafter, Bingley suggested that she remove to draw closer to the fire and when she did, he sat by her, promptly forgetting about his friend and all others in the room.

Tea was served and was quickly over, owing largely to the lack of conversation in the room, especially on Bingley's part- he continued to pay his undivided attention to Miss Jane Bennet. Mr. Hurst spoke up then, to invite Caroline to set the gaming table and engage the others in cards, but Caroline turned down his offer.

"Nobody else seems interested in a game of cards tonight, dearest brother-in-law." She smiled at him in a way that brooked no argument.

The man thus had not another resort but to take the sofa and send himself off to sleep. Shaking his head at his friend's obvious enamoured state with the ailing Miss Bennet and the little scene with Caroline and Mr. Hurst, Fitzwilliam proceeded to select a book from the shelf in the room and resumed his seat. It was, but a scarce amount of time, that he observed that Miss Bingley selected a book; the second volume of the one _he_ was reading and settled down next to him. Set upon his resolution to avoid Elizabeth, he became studious, willing himself _not_ to observe her as she knitted a yarn in the corner of the room, occasionally watching her sister and Bingley. In the end, he succeeded in his attempts to entice his eyes away from her figure and Fitzwilliam was soon lost in the book, but for Miss Bingley's disturbance now and then; glancing into his book and attempting to engage him in conversation with her. He, however, was unaffected by her disturbances- he could wager that she soon would become bored with the book for he knew that she had no burning passion for books like Miss Elizabeth.

Miss Bingley did not disappoint him as she soon cast the book aside. "How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way!" she said in a voice that rang out in falsified cheer. "I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading. How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library."

To her declaration, none made the tiniest reply to which she yawned and turned her gaze to her brother and Miss Jane. She was quick to interrupt their conversation upon hearing her brother mention of a ball at Netherfield.

"By the bye, Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance at Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult the wishes of the present party. I am much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure."

Every one of them assembled in the room knew that by 'some among us', she meant Darcy and eyes turned to him. Darcy ignored them all, not lifting his gaze from his book.

Bingley chuckled and replied, "If you mean Darcy, he may go to bed, if he chooses, before it begins- but as for the ball, it is quite a settled thing; and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough, I shall send round my cards."

"I should like balls infinitely better if they were carried on in a different manner; but there is something insufferably tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It would surely be much more rational if conversation, instead of dancing, were made the order of the day."

The above was from none other than Miss Bingley who released a long suffering sigh, even though thoughts of what to wear at the ball were already filling her head.

"Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say, but it would not be near so much like a ball," replied her brother who promptly returned to Jane, thus ending _that_ subject.

Caroline, conceiving of no other pastime, began to take a calculated walk around the room to impress Mr. Darcy with her fine figure. In her frustration that he did not glance in her direction as much as she wanted, she invited Elizabeth to join her. "Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude."

The invitation caught Elizabeth most unaware but she consented.

Only then did Fitzwilliam look up for he could no longer resist the temptation to fix his eyes upon Elizabeth Bennet. Caroline Bingley was tall and carried herself proudly in a rod-straight affected manner around the room whilst Elizabeth simply walked around the room with apparently no other aim in mind than exercise. He found that he preferred her walk to Miss Bingley's very much indeed.

Aye, he could watch Miss Elizabeth Bennet walk around the room for the whole night and never for a moment, grow weary.

"I see how you look at us, Mr. Darcy," Miss Bingley observed. "Perhaps you would like to take a turn yourself?"

"I see no reason to- I can imagine that there could be but two motives for you ladies to walk up and down the room together in this fashion and joining you would interfere in any of this motives- whichever it may be."

Miss Caroline asked Miss Elizabeth what she imagined he meant by his cryptic remark and the latter advised her not to dwell upon it for she knew Mr. Darcy to be satirical in his approach. Miss Bingley of course could not let such comment pass by without gaining intelligence about it especially since it was from Mr. Darcy, so she asked him about it and he explained thus:

"You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other's confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking; if the first, I would be completely in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire."

Miss Elizabeth was none much too surprised by the blatant reply but Miss Bingley gasped.

"Oh! shocking! I never heard anything so abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?" she asked of Elizabeth, seemingly forgetting her dislike of herself.

"Nothing so easy," her companion replied. "If you have but the inclination, we can all plague and punish one another. Tease him- laugh at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done."

Caroline sighed heavily, casting an annoyed look at Darcy.

"But upon my honour, I do not. I do assure you that my intimacy has not yet taught me that. Tease calmness of manner and presence of mind! No, no- feel he may defy us there. And as to laughter, we will not expose ourselves, if you please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. Mr. Darcy may hug himself."

Elizabeth replied, "Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at! That is an uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would be a great loss to me to have many such acquaintances. I dearly love a laugh."

There, Mr. Darcy himself replied with a straight face, "Miss Bingley has given me more credit than can be. The wisest and the best of men- nay, the wisest and best of their actions- may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke."

"Certainly, there are such people," agreed Elizabeth good-naturedly, "but I hope I am not one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is wise and good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without."

The conversation as started out had been relinquished to the commandeering of Elizabeth and Darcy.

"Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule," Darcy replied, pinning Elizabeth with a look.

She however refused to bow in his line of reasoning.

"Such as vanity and pride," said she.

And Darcy replied: "Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed," he allowed ruefully. "But pride- where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation."

He expected Elizabeth to reply. Nay, he anticipated it but he only saw her look down into her work and he imagined he saw a little smile upon her lips.

"Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume? And pray what is the result?" Miss Bingley said glad for an avenue to contribute at last.

Elizabeth looked up to answer her, bending her head to a side as if listening to a voice only she could hear.

"I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it himself without disguise," came the pronouncement.

"No, Darcy disagreed, "I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding- certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of other so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever."

His rendition of what he deigned were his follies brought an ironical laughter to Elizabeth's lips. "That is a failing indeed!" said she. "Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I really cannot laugh at it. You are safe from me."

This she accompanied with another little laugh that elicited a frown from her subject.

"There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil- a natural defect, which, not even the best education can overcome."

"And your defect is to hate everybody," remarked Elizabeth unmoved by his double edged retaliation.

"And yours is wilfully to misunderstand them," he retorted with a smile for a found their arguments to be quite charming and soothing.

"Do let us have a little music," Miss Bingley thought to say and turned to her sister. "Louisa, you will not mind my waking Mr. Hurst?"

Her sister too was weary of playing with her bangles all day while she listened alternatively to Bingley and Miss Bennet or Darcy and Elizabeth.

"He sleeps like the dead so, no objection do I have to any music that would liven up the atmosphere," said she.

Miss Bingley hurried to the pianoforte.

Elizabeth resumed her knitting, Bingley sat in companionable silence beside Jane who tapped her feet to the music, Darcy went back to his book, a dark frown set upon his face. He had enjoyed their repartee a little too much for comfort and only now did he recall his resolve _not_ to address Miss Elizabeth in any conversation as a means of curbing his fascination with her. It was so unlike him in character to act against his own resolution that he was immediately angry with this failing of his.

He decided once more to follow the course of his resolution more firmly from then on lest he found himself entrenched in the lion's den with no means of escape.

The next day, Elizabeth proposed to her sister that they leave Netherfield. In her opinion, they had imposed on the generosity of Mr. Bingley long enough. Word was sent to Longbourn that the carriage be sent to Netherfield to convey them home but their mother, wanting of them to continue their stay, refused them this request.

"You and I both know the reason mother has denied us the use of the carriage, Jane," she thus told her sister, "however, I think it highly unjust to continue to take advantage of Mr. Bingley's kindness when your recovery is so evident."

She made no mention of the ill feeling she had towards the Bingley women _and_ the warmth she was beginning to feel towards Mr. Darcy. The latter excuse in particular was a feeling that had crept upon her most unaware and she wanted to be off before something came out of it, heavens forbid such occurrence. The day before, she had discovered that despite the exchange of words back and forth, she had rather enjoyed the scene too well. There could be no liking one such as Mr. Darcy, she told herself and since Jane was healing speedily, the decision to return home was promptly made.

"You say the truth and I earnestly agree," replied Jane. "But we cannot make our way home on foot or on horse for that matter; I am afraid that I shall not make it this time around."

"Oh! Do not be tease me so, Jane," cried Elizabeth, "I would not dare to mention walking to our hosts; I vividly remember the looks I received upon doing so to come here. And by the by, recovered as you are, you are in no shape to walk or ride a horse. I think we will have to impose once more on Mr. Bingley's generosity and request for _his_ carriage."

Jane thought it an excellent idea and made the request. Mr. Bingley would hear nothing of their removal on that day and made an appeal that they wait till the next day; the sisters agreed.

At noon, Jane was inclined towards a walk; Elizabeth couldn't fault her- if _she_ were fixed in bed for four days like her sister, she would want to run in the wind when she healed. The Bingley sisters were gone to Meryton; they had failed to employ the services of their brother and Mr. Darcy to accompany them to the milliner's in Meryton for new hats, and left in a fit of annoyance with Mr. Hurst. To Jane's inclination, Mr. Bingley volunteered himself to take her for a turn in the garden and when Elizabeth ensured that she was well wrapped against _any_ wind, she deemed them ready to go. She was left in the house with Mr. Darcy.

Telling herself that he probably was lazing the day away in his bed- even though she had noticed his dislike for indolence- she thus decided to ignore the intelligence of his presence in the house and repaired to the library for a book. It was most unfortunate that he was in the library too, reading a book. At first, she thought of leaving the room to him but decided that he would think her so subdued. She entered, murmuring a greeting to him and took a book to read at a corner as far away from him as she could manage.

They did not exchange further words and so they remained until Bingley returned with Jane and took to reading out loud to her.

At night again, she found herself alone with him for a short while- a period shorter than that of the noon. The meeting was nothing but chance but from it, she gained the highest intelligence of all.

Everyone had earlier retired to their beds and Elizabeth was in the process of doing so herself after spending some time attending to Jane but Jane expressed that she had forgotten her wrapper in the library in the afternoon and so, Elizabeth offered to go to the library to retrieve it for her. Wrapper in one hand and a torch in another, she was withdrawing from the room when she bumped into a figure who was apparently on his way down the hall outside the library.

"What is this?" Darcy cried in vexation at the surprise as he held her steady with a hand on her wrist lest she fell.

He was wearing a hat which swept low across his face and riding clothes- both of which suggested his intent to go out at that ungodly hour. The torch was between them in a manner that only added to the mystery that the hat lent to his face and one disturbing memory which had always danced on the borders of her mind came to the forefront. She was thrown back to two months ago to Fitzwilliam Tavern in Meryton.

"You!" she gasped in disbelief. "It was you."

She saw his jaw tighten and despite the darkness, she saw a hardness enter his eyes. He said naught to her but released hold of her wrist, steadied the torch in her hand and walked down the hall and out of her sight. Her shock rendered no help to her legs to go after him or to her mouth to say another word to him.

Elizabeth remained in the same position for a long time, staring at the spot where she had encountered Mr. Darcy. She had no doubt of it that _he_ was the man who had almost ruined her plot at the tavern. Then, the man had mentioned that he was a stranger in the country and she had thought no more of it.

 _How silly of her._

She had been living in such close quarters with the same man for nigh four days and she hadn't recognized him! She had no doubt also that he recognized her right at the assembly where they had officially been introduced. It was no wonder that he held her in such low opinion; in fact, it was no wonder that he spoke to her at all. A man of his ilk did not descend so low as to speak to ladies they found in a tavern. More so, she figured that he _hadn't_ told a soul about their meeting despite how much it must gall him to be found in her presence. For this alone, her respect for his integrity increased several ranks higher. However, with the respect came an annoyance so profound. It was apparent that finding her in the room had dented her forever in his eyes. It must be the reason he was mostly disparaging of her character; he had found her lacking and so condemned her.

He was none so high in her opinions either, but wasn't it wise to gain accurate intelligence before deciding upon the character of a person? Despite that, she had the most discouraging encounter with him upon their first acquaintance- why, he had abused her to her hearing, but she still deigned to talk to him civilly afterwards. And he wasn't so faultless either, she thought in a fit of self defence; hadn't he also been at the tavern? If he was so high and mighty like he purported to carry himself about, what was his business in a room above the stairs in Fitzwilliam Tavern where it was well known what happened in those rooms. Perhaps, even now, he was heading to the tavern for some illicit pleasure.

Thinking this and sufficiently riled up in her own defence, Elizabeth marched to Jane's room to find her sister asleep. Her ire reduced a notch as she tenderly covered her sister with the wrapper and left the room.

Mr. Darcy could rot in hell with his biased judgement of her for all she cared; they were leaving the house on the morrow.


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Back in Longbourn, Elizabeth saw that things were rather the same as they had left them. Her father was still his usual laconic self; her mother expressed her inflexibility by showing her irk for their return despite her protests; Mary was into one study or the other that Elizabeth did not deign to look into; Kitty and Catherine were still in raptures over the men in scarlet coats. It was still home and Elizabeth delighted in her return immensely. Her annoyance and all thoughts about a man named Fitzwilliam Darcy was all but forgotten in the subsequent events that happened at Longbourn for in all sense of the word, Elizabeth was one who could never hold on to a grudge for a long amount of time.

The next morning, their father in his manner of announcing matters which he ought to have announced but delayed for the purpose of shocking his family, especially his wife, announced that they were expecting a visitor. The mention of the expected visitor did not please his wife nor very much his daughters- it was none other than his cousin; the man to whom their estate was entailed and who shall therefore make his girls destitute should he fall and die anytime of the day. Reading out his letter, differences in opinions rent the air about his personality. The man was unanimously decided to be an oddity of sorts- he made mention of his occupation as an ordained man with the greatest humility; the attention paid to him by Lady Catherine De Bourgh; his wish to extend an olive branch in settlement of the differences between his late father who had quarrelled with Mr. Bennet his entire life; and his desire to make amends to Mr. Bennet's daughters.

Though none of them could possibly see how he could propose to make any amends, they all thought it would serve them well to have him wait upon them in order to see for themselves who the man was. And so, they awaited his arrival.

Mr. Collins was a man of twenty and five years. His figure was found to be agreeable enough- tall, straight but heavy- if one overlooked the pompous manner with which he carried himself. In the space if a few moments that he made his way into the Bennet's home, he admired the girls all of their beauty, highly flattering in his praises to border of excessiveness. Of course, this pleased Mrs. Bennet to no end and he rose in her goodwill. However, when he came upon the admiration of their house, china and arts, Elizabeth could perceive the offense on her mother's face and for the first time, she found that she agreed with her mother's thoughts- the man could only be sizing up his properties much as a horse breeder does a horse he meant to purchase.

As for Mr. Bennet, he scarcely said a word as was his practice but Mr. Collins was not inclined to reticence and he and the ladies of the family ensured there was no lack in conversation. Mr. Bennet however engaged the attention of his guest over dinner in discussion pertaining to his patroness, Lady De Bourgh; it was in the neighbourhood of the widow's abode, Rosing's Park was situated that Mr Collins was rector in the parsonage.

In this subject, Mr. Collins had a greater deal to say. His regard for his patroness rang out in spades and he spoke highly of her affability, condescension and kindness upon himself. Elizabeth had no doubt that the woman was the type that thought herself superior to all other living creatures simply by virtue of her circumstance in life. Her cousin needed no further incitement to revere his 'humble abode' in Hudson and every other thing about his life and by the time the evening was over, Elizabeth, inwardly supported by her father made the decision that Mr. Collins was conceited, supercilious, pretention and full of his own consequence.

The next day, she and her sisters had the importunity of his company as he attended to them to Meryton. It was Lydia's suggestion that they all thither to Meryton to their aunt's and Mr. Bennet had seen the perfect chance to send his loquacious cousin out of the house- for Mr. Collins had suddenly taken to hounding him around the house, making small conversations that Mr. Bennet could not bring himself to care for.

It was on this visit that Lydia took notice of officer Denny with a very handsome stranger. She called the attention of her sisters to the stranger, already veering in the direction of the gentlemen.

Officer Denny, ever the gentleman introduced his companion as Mr. George William and mentioned that he was a new addition to their consignment for whom he had gone specifically to London to guide to Meryton. The man himself had a great eloquence, carriage and grace that immediately endeared him to the ladies.

"What fine way to encounter such fine ladies in a fine town such as this," Mr. William said as way of compliment to all the Bennet ladies and they; especially the youngest two blushed happily.

"Do you not think so?" Mr. Collins threw in his two pence. "I was but enchanted with them also myself; it is not a common sight to see such beauty, such mannerisms assembled together in a family."

Hitherto, Mr. Collins had been ignored- for a fact, his existence had totally been forgotten and Jane, guilty about forgetting her manners was quick to introduce him. Barely was the introduction acknowledged before Lydia posed a question to Mr. Wickham.

"I cannot imagine sir, what reason you must have to join the corps but I can imagine it can only be a noble one and rest assured that you have my earnest admiration towards this."

Mr. Wickham smiled at her in a way that caused her heart to flutter in her chest an Lydia thought how incredibly charming he was and how Officer Denny- whom she hitherto believed was the perfect example for all men- paled in comparison.

"I aspire for peace in our beloved land among many other things..."

His reply was thus cut short by the appearance of a carriage stopping next to the pavement where the party was assembled. Elizabeth was dismayed to see that it was Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy. Since she and Jane left Netherfield but a week ago, there had been no meeting between her and the odious man. In the midst of all that was happening in her house, she had but forgotten his existence but for a few times whereby the memory would bring a warmth to her cheeks that had no business there. Upon seeing him at the moment, something fluttered in her chest and she fancied that it _must_ be embarrassment at being faced with the man who had caught her in an indecent act.

In the felicity of greetings that followed by which Bingley thereupon fixed himself on Jane Bennet, inquiring about her health and all such, Elizabeth observed that Mr. Darcy was disinclined to dwell in her direction. Her ire was very much rising for the deliberate slight when she noticed something that had she not been studying the man herself, would not have noticed at all. Mr. Darcy raised his gaze enough to meet that of Mr. Wickham and the reaction was less than desirable- in both men; while Mr. Wickham visibly paled, Mr. Darcy turned a most unbecoming shade of red, setting his jaw angrily while a storm brewed in his eyes. Elizabeth saw this exchange though brief and wondered at it. The men scarcely managed a nod in each other's direction, causing Elizabeth to wonder. They seemed to watch each other warily up till the moment when Bingley was sufficiently pleased that Jane was well recovered, took his leave and their company and rode on.

The exchange was still in the front of her mind as they went to their aunts'; it was on her mind the entire time they spent there and it subsisted all the way home that she _had_ to recount it to Jane who saw no excuse to offer for the seeming rancour between the two men for it was obvious then that they must be previously acquainted. So befuddled and enthralled by the element of a puzzle especially as it concerned Mr. Darcy that Elizabeth wished she could solicit on one of the men for an explanation but alas, she could not for she and Mr. Darcy were never on the best of terms and she had only met Mr. Wickham to-day.

Remembering her aunt's promise to hold a small dinner assembly with her nieces and promising to send invitation to some of the officers; Mr. Wickham in particular at the suggestion of Lydia, Elizabeth decided that should the opportunity present itself at the dinner and were she to gain further acquaintance of Mr. Wickham, she would ask him about this- most politely of course.

Fitzwilliam Darcy's countenance- though none too apparent to the careless observer, was a mixture of pleasure and discontentment- pleasure at seeing Elizabeth again even though he was ill disposed to feel this; and discontentment at the sight of the young man in her company. Though he had enough intelligence about the man's arrival into the country and the corps, he was afraid that he hadn't prepared himself well for chancing upon him.

The sight of the man still caused him no small amount of annoyance, he acknowledged.

Knowing the man, he was not so surprised to find him in the midst of the beautiful Bennet sisters. In fact, he would therefore be very much unsurprised if the man already did not have a grand plan brewing in his head that involved one of the sisters. Despite his disinclination towards the Bennet family in general, Darcy resolved to keep an eye on _the Bennet_ ladies whilst the man was around. He purportedly ignored the voice in his head which teased him that his main concern in making such decision was for Elizabeth Bennet.

That last night she spent at Netherfield, she had remembered. He could only own her sudden recollection to the proximity with which they stood at the door of the library which could be likened to how they were positioned in the room in the tavern. Since she had come into her senses about his identity, he figured that she would be inclined to have nothing to do with him and this, he most preferred for her recognition finally confirmed to him that she was a lady of disrepute and it was in his best interest to steer clear.


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

The dinner came to be and Elizabeth had the fortune of gathering the attentions of Mr. Wickham to herself during a game of whist. Other men in the room, including of their uncle Mr. Philips, were at the card table while the ladies observed but the man did not play and as he sat by her, they engaged in conversation. Elizabeth was dwelling upon a manner best suited to approach the subject when the man broached it himself.

"Pray tell, if you don't mind me asking, how long have Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy been living in the country?" he suddenly asked though Elizabeth noted his hesitation in rendering voice to the question.

Elizabeth did not mind in the least.

"About a month," said she and added to encourage more talk on the subject; "He is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I understand."

"Yes, his estate there is a noble one; a clear ten thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself, for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy."

Her surprise was evident and Mr. Wickham asserted his statement positively. She replied to his inquiry about her acquaintance with him that she thought "him very disagreeable."

"I have no right to give my opinion, as to his being agreeable or otherwise," Wickham supplied. "I am not qualified to form one. I have known him too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for me to be impartial. But I believe your opinion of him would in general astonish, and perhaps you would not express it quite so strongly anywhere else. Here you are in your own family."

Elizabeth encouraged him by affirming that Darcy was indeed not well liked by all in the country. They thus both agreed that Mr. Darcy was ill tempered and disdainful of the common people. Elizabeth still longed to hear of the cause of the rift between the two men and she bid herself patience. After a while, Wickham asked if she knew the duration of stay of the man and she replied in the negative, asking if the intelligence affected Mr. Wickham's stay in one way or the other.

"Oh, no!" he cried. "It is not for me to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go. We are not on friendly terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for avoiding him but what I might proclaim before the entire world, a sense of very great ill-usage, and most painful regrets at his being what he is. His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had; and I can never be in company with this Mr. Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a thousand tender recollections. His behaviour to myself has been scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the memory of his father."

At last, the subject of her fascination was introduced and she listened raptly though in a manner, she hoped that was not too obvious. Their conversation suffered some interruptions but she was sufficiently able to gather the intelligence she sought.

"The late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere."

"But how could that be? How could his will be disregarded? Why did you not seek legal redress?"

"There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have doubted the intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it, or to treat it as a merely conditional recommendation, and to assert that I had forfeited all claim to it by extravagance, imprudence, in short anything or nothing. Certain it is, that the living became vacant two years ago, exactly as I was of an age to hold it, and that it was given to another man; and no less certain is it, that I cannot accuse myself of having really done anything to deserve to lose it. I have a warm, unguarded temper, and I may have spoken my opinion of him, and to him, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very different sort of men, and that he hates me."

Elizabeth expressed her sincere shock at the revelation. It was abominably beyond her expectations of the man; low as he was already in her opinions.

"I had not thought Mr. Darcy so bad as this, though I have never liked him. I had not thought so very ill of him. I had supposed him to be despising his fellow-creatures in general, but did not suspect him of descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as this."

She thus remembered his speech at Netherfield about his unforgiving temper and commented on it.

"Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?" she wondered out loud after she and Wickham had sufficiently abused Darcy, most deservingly of course.

"Yes. It has often led him to be liberal and generous, to give his money freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the poor. Family pride, and filial pride—for he is very proud of what his father was—have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to degenerate from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the Pemberley House, is a powerful motive. He has also brotherly pride, which, with some brotherly affection, makes him a very kind and careful guardian of his sister, and you will hear him generally cried up as the most attentive and best of brothers."

The last, Elizabeth could attest to, owning to the manner in which he wrote his sister while she was at Netherfield. Her curiosity thus for the moment, shifted to the sister, hoping for at least some sensibility therein.

"What sort of girl is Miss Darcy?" she asked.

Wickham did not answer positively: "I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Darcy. But she is too much like her brother- very, very proud. As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to her amusement. But she is nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen, and, I understand, highly accomplished. Since her father's death, her home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and superintends her education."

"I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley! How can Mr. Bingley, who seems good humour itself, and is, I really believe, truly amiable, be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each other?" On this, she was truly baffled because she fancied that her high opinion of Mr Bingley could _not_ be wrong. "Do you know Mr. Bingley?" she asked Wickham.

Wickham answered that he did not and Elizabeth proceeded to apprise him of how charming Mr. Bingley was in comparison to his friend. She owned that " _he_ cannot know what Mr. Darcy is."

To this, Wickham agreed allowing that Darcy could be condescending without his pride to be affable with the rich who he thought was near his own station in life.

It was at that moment that the whist party broke up and their conversation came to a standstill though Elizabeth allowed that she had gained the exact intelligence she sought- and more. She gave her attention to the players as they gathered round the other table and Mr. Collins took his station, happened to position himself beside Elizabeth on her right and next to Mrs. Phillips who inquired of his success at the table.

The question led her cousin into bemoaning his loss but he was quick to assure her that the loss was not thoroughly felt. "There are undoubtedly many who could not say the same, but thanks to Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I am removed far beyond the necessity of regarding little matters," he consoled his hostess.

His mention of the lady aroused in Wickham a curious interest and he addressed his curiosity to Elizabeth in a whisper.

"Lady Catherine de Bourgh," she whispered back, "has very lately given him a living. I hardly know how Mr. Collins was first introduced to her notice, but he certainly has not known her long."

"You know of course that Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Lady Anne Darcy were sisters; consequently that she is aunt to the present Mr. Darcy."

Elizabeth answered that she did not- she knew nothing of the lady's existence till her cousin came to wait on them. She also thought it befitting that such a man should have such connections hence an inflation of his pride.

"Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, will have a very large fortune, and it is believed that she and her cousin will unite the two estates," Wickham thought it important to inform her.

Immediately, Miss Bingley came to Elizabeth's mind and she thought with absolutely no small amount of pleasure how her efforts towards ensnaring Mr. Darcy was all for naught. After this came the thought to her mind to ask about the character of the lady.

"Mr. Collins speaks highly of both of Lady Catherine and her daughter; but from some particulars that he has related of her ladyship, I suspect his gratitude misleads him, and that in spite of her being his patroness, she is an arrogant, conceited woman."

It was exactly as she supposed. Wickham was quick to inform her that she was indeed right and affirmed that he never liked her none too much either.

The supper party was noisy and their conversation discontinued. However, Elizabeth had learnt enough about Mr. Darcy and his history to sufficiently fuel her dislike for the man. All she had learnt were the most detestable of all characters and those buttressed by his hasty judgement about her, she decided that there was nothing to like about him. In an instant, all traces of lingering warmth that she might have gathered about him during her stay at Netherfield dissipated and was replaced by a judgement in the like of which he pronounced upon her.

As the evening dragged to an end, Elizabeth watched George Wickham and couldn't help but notice his extremely good looks, polite manners, splendid carriage and that he was the most popular of the guests with the ladies. He was also popular with the men too and as she could tell, he was a jolly good fellow who attended to all. She fancied herself the most acquainted with his attentions and _he_ even came to her when the party disbanded near midnight to say his goodbyes and hoped that he would meet them all- the Bennet ladies soon enough again.

And so it was that Miss Elizabeth Bennet left her aunt's house with the thoughts of two different men in her head. Of one, she thought most unfavourably and if she never saw him till she died, it was just as well. Of the other however, she hoped for further acquaintance- she liked him immensely and thought about him most favourably.


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

As was always with Jane, she couldn't bring herself to believe Elizabeth's- or rather Wickham's story when Elizabeth related what she heard to her sister. Jane insisted that Mr. Bingley really could not keep the company of Mr. Darcy were he to be _that_ abominable and at the peril of insinuating that Mr. Wickham was a liar, affirmed that Mr. Wickham's presentation was too good to be anything but convinced of his words. She, therefore, expressed that the two men must have been mistaken in one way or another.

"They have both been deceived, I dare say, in some way or other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps misrepresented each to the other. It is, in short, impossible for us to conjecture the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them, without actual blame on either side."

To this opened faced self deceit- for that was what Elizabeth could allude this disbelief of Mr. Wickham's opinion- Elizabeth had no means of convincing her sister, but she had convinced herself of her opinions and there was scarce anything to be done to change her mind.

Mr. Bingley and his sisters paid a visit to Longbourn as she and Jane were discussing this issue and Elizabeth saw the light find its way to her sister's eyes at the visit. What her sister ever saw in the two Bingley women as to call them her friends was beyond Elizabeth- for their visit to Longbourn further displayed their superciliousness and haughty disdain of her family. The sisters particularly avoided any conversation with Mrs. Bennet who was too busy attending Mr. Bingley with her favours to care for them either; they also were reserved with Elizabeth in their address and would not deign to open their mouths to utter a word to the rest. Only to Jane were they the epitome of graciousness and friendliness, expressing how they missed her company so and hoping for her appearance at the ball.

Mr. Bingley, however, was worthy of compensation for his sisters' slight. While giving his principal attention to Jane, he addressed the purpose of their visit to the whole family without a single air of superciliousness in his speech as opposed to every word that fell off the lips of his sisters. "It is my pleasure to invite your delectable presences to Netherfield for the very much sought after ball." Here, he looked meaningfully at Jane who gasped in delight. "It will be my utmost felicity to have the entire household attend the ball."

In his address, none could find a fault and even Mr. Bennet smiled in agreement when Mrs. Bennet exclaimed how fine a gentleman he was both during their presence in the house and long after they were gone.

Upon the departure of the party, the Bennet family gave way to the excitement about the impending ball and began to prepare for it in a variety of ways that can only be had in the Bennet household that one would be disposed to think it was the first ball of the season. Even Mr. Collins, whom Elizabeth prevailed upon to give his verdict on the dance, was not disinclined towards it- much to _her_ surprise.

"I am by no means of the opinion," he said most willingly, "I assure you, that a ball of this kind, given by a young man of character, to respectable people, can have any evil tendency; and I am so far from objecting to dancing myself, that I shall hope to be honoured with the hands of all my fair cousins in the course of the evening; and I take this opportunity of soliciting yours, Miss Elizabeth, for the two first dances especially, a preference which I trust my cousin Jane will attribute to the right cause, and not to any disrespect for her."

Immediately, Elizabeth realized the graveness of her error in asking him the question for she had fancied in her head, pictures of herself and Mr. Wickham dancing those dances Mr. Collins asked for. Short of expressing herself rudely, she saw no other course to take but to graciously grant him the request and make space for Mr. Wickham in subsequent dances. With the acceptance, however, came the thought that there _was_ more to the request. With careful study of her cousin, thenceforth, she saw that he paid more attention to _her_ than he did the rest. She thought, therefore, that he must think to, through her, fulfil his wishes for an atonement of inheriting the estate to herself and her sisters upon her father's death. Her mother, on her part, never failed to suggest as only she could without adequate verification that _she_ wasagreeable to the match should the proposal be anytime made. Elizabeth consoled herself with the intelligence that the proposal was not yet made and very well might never be made.

The day of the dance came- though the Bennet ladies had hitherto despaired that it would not for it had rained an awful lot from the day after the invitation which was a Friday all through Monday that they had all thought that Tuesday was at a peril of the rain's unceasing assault. However, by some fate which at last consented to smile upon Hertfordshire, Tuesday dawned bright and clear; and but for the large puddles that filled the roads, there was naught amiss to grieve over in attending the ball.

Only a quarter of an hour of arriving at Netherfield informed Elizabeth- and Lydia- that Mr. Wickham was not one of the guests at the ball and this increased her irk at Mr. Darcy for she _knew_ that somehow, he was responsible for the nonappearance of the man. It was thus with some despondency that she danced with Mr. Collins; who was by far the most unpleasant dancer she had ever had the misfortune to dance with. Her mood began to gain some semblance of improvement when the dance was over with him and she was with her friend Charlotte Lucas.

She thought the moment as good as any to ask her friend how she fared about _the matter_ and gave voice to the thought that was uppermost in her mind at present.

"Charlotte, I know of the pain it gives you to mention _him",_ she began with care, "but I must ask- how have you fared thus far and I do hope that he has not been paying any more attentions to yourself."

A blush crept slowly upon her friend's face but her expression was grave and steady when she answered; "No- _he_ has not been paying any sort of attention to me that anybody would find it hard to believe that we are acquainted in the least. And as to how I fare, I can only say that I have mended as well I can- thanks to you my dearest Eliza; and thoughts of _him_ are far from my mind."

Since the reply so given was exactly what Elizabeth wanted to hear, she could have no quarrel with it, but she felt some underlying bitterness in her friend's voice and made to comment upon it when Mr. Darcy appeared in front of her. He, after the exchange of civilities (which Elizabeth had heretofore avoided in silent disdain over what she perceived as Mr. Darcy's fault for Wickham's absence at the ball) requested for her hand at the next dance. So surprised was she that she gave her consent and instantly regretted it even as he turned away to await the termination of the current dance.

At the continuation of the dance, she found herself in his hands with a silence hovering over their heads as dark as the night sky. She had a feeling that he judged her in his mind; and that the dance was requested only to mock her for knowing what he presumed to be her waywardness of character from their first meeting. Since she had already decided that his opinion of her was of no consequence with her, she allowed the silence to prevail. No quarrel had she with it anyway- he was a man she highly disproved of and dancing with him was the height of all mortification for her. She could only now be grateful that Mr. Wickham was not at the ball to witness her disloyalty and of which she reminded herself that she would _not_ have accepted Darcy's hand were Wickham to be present _and_ that it was Darcy's fault that Wickham was not. Unable to think of a more befitting punishment for the man whom- she had to acknowledge danced exceedingly well, she decided that a conversation might serve the exact purpose since he so evidently abhorred it. Her comment about the dance elicited but a short response to which she responded tartly that it was expected to converse during the course of a dance. This brought on a small argument till Darcy asked;

"Would you and your sisters be so inclined to thither to Meryton often times?"

Though the question was totally unanticipated, she found in it an opening to discuss Wickham and gladly answered that: "Yes, they did," and that: "When you met us there the other day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance."

To her comment, Mr. Darcy responded in a violent change of disposition and: "Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends. Whether he may be equally capable of retaining them is less certain."

Quite unable to help herself, Elizabeth said most sardonically, "He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life."

In that moment, Sir William Lucas interrupted their dance on his way to the other side of the room, and with a low bow to Darcy commented: "I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear sir," said he. "Such very superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to the first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not disgrace you, and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated, especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Eliza, shall take place. What congratulations will then flow in! I appeal to Mr. Darcy. But let me not interrupt you, sir. You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of that young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me."

Indeed Elizabeth was looking at her friend's father with none so praising eyes for the unsolicited comment he made most particularly about Jane and Bingley. She loathed to impress on Darcy any thoughts towards the anxiety over his friend's and her sister's inclination towards each other, but it seemed, alas, that Darcy already had his mind on the exact thoughts she feared.

 _Well_ , _things will be as things are wont to be_.

Darcy's fixation on the other couple was short lived, however, for he soon bestowed her with his intense dark gaze.

"Sir William's interruption has made me forget what we were talking of," said he to her with a frown on his brows.

In her mind, far removed from what he said but with her ears working well enough, Elizabeth wondered how a man so tall and handsome could have such pride, disdain and the lowliest of character in him- his very existence on earth was beyond her. Elizabeth therefore concluded in her mind that beauty surely was not all that there was to a personality. This decided, she realized that he had said something to her of which merited her answer. With a silent rebuke of herself for the unsought admiration of his form, Elizabeth hastened to call her mind to order lest he realized that she made no answer to his address- she thus replied:

"I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir William could not have interrupted two people in the room who had less to say for themselves," she said, weary already of engaging him in a converse that would only lead to a dispute in opinions.

The man kept his reserve and they each allowed the music to lead their steps in the dance, embracing the silence, but it so fell on Elizabeth to disturb the silence that she herself had encouraged.

"I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy, that you hardly ever forgave; that your resentment once created was unappeasable."

Her statement was unpremeditated and it appeared that Mr. Darcy was taken in by the abruptness of it for he gazed down at her with such rapt focus. Disconcerted by his attention but for a brief moment, Elizabeth continued:

"You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its being created."

"I am."

His affirmation spoke of certainty in his belief. However, she was hard pressed to continue in the new train of thoughts that her mind had unwittingly set her upon.

"And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?" she asked of him.

Here, there was a small pause that she was about to repeat the question when he replied.

"I hope not."

She paused here and looked directly upon his gaze before she impacted on him her next word.

"Then, wouldn't you rather say; say that it is particularly incumbent on _those_ who never change their opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first," she said in an emphatic manner.

Mr. Darcy's nostrils widened at her words, but other than that, she had no manner of gaining intelligence for the next words that fell from his mouth.

"If you speak of a certain night at a particular tavern in Meryton, I daresay that there can be no further affirmation to be had by seeking further intelligence- the situation was one that spoke for itself, does it not?" he said coldly.

"Indeed, it does," she answered in equal measure of coldness and said no more.

He had claimed to be of little prejudice but he was highly flawed in that regard. By his speech, he had condemned her to be a sinner with no redemption. With no effort made towards securing the truth of the matter, in his eyes, she will always be the woman he found in the tavern. She saw no way to influence him out of this conviction and even if there were, she would not deign to fixed were his opinions of her already.

She said no more, and they went down the other dance whither they parted in silence. Elizabeth examined her feelings about the man with some reserve as she stood at the exact area where she and Charlotte had been standing before Mr. Darcy came to claim her for the dance. She wished to continue her discussion with her friend but since Charlotte was nowhere to be found, she was left at the mercy of her thoughts.

Elizabeth resolved that she would no more deceive herself than anyone else. Despite her misgivings about the man, something in him still attracted her. However, Elizabeth was sensible enough to know that her attraction was close to that of a moth to a flame- it would scald her should she hearken to its call.

Mrs. Bennet was standing close to some ladies to Elizabeth's right and she could hear the content of their discourse- it principally centred on the probability of a wedding in Netherfield between Mr. Bingley and Jane; to which Mrs. Bennet most audaciously engaged and delighted in- much to her daughter's chagrin who was listening in embarrassed silence. Elizabeth was of the opinion that so much talk about the wedding when there was not even a proposal in place yet would cast the evil eye on the budding affair. Casting her gaze about the party of women, she could perceive that many of them were none too happy with the news, but the congratulations poured in nonetheless.

Lady Lucas in particular looked peeved and sought to change the subject matter. "Did you hear that the Lawrences are quitting Garywood?" she asked.

Her statement was news to Elizabeth herself and she saw the interest of the group stirred- even Mrs. Bennet could not deign to be irritated at the change in subject because she dearly loved a good tale. Elizabeth, however, had lost interest in the women for the intelligence about the Lawrences quitting their home, Garywood (which was just north of Lucas Lodge) was of utmost importance- especially to Charlotte. Perhaps it was a reason that none of the family was at the ball, Elizabeth surmised. Immediately, she began to seek her friend from the people in the room when her sister came upon her. She had come to give Elizabeth the news that she had gained its intelligence about Darcy and Wickham from none other than Mr. Bingley himself. _This_ new intelligence thus overthrew the old and Elizabeth stood with Jane to listen.

"Mr. Bingley does not know the whole of his history," began Jane, "and is quite ignorant of the circumstances which have principally offended Mr. Darcy; but he will vouch for the good conduct, the probity, and honour of his friend, and is perfectly convinced that Mr. Wickham has deserved much less attention from Mr. Darcy than he has received; and I am sorry to say by his account as well as his sister's, Mr. Wickham is by no means a respectable young man. I am afraid he has been very imprudent and has deserved to lose Mr. Darcy's regard."

Jane's address was very nonsensical to Elizabeth's hearing and she would have told her so if she hadn't mentioned Mr. Bingley's name in accompaniment of the information.

"Mr. Bingley does not know Mr. Wickham himself?" she deemed fit to ask since the information reeked of bias.

"No; he never saw him till the other morning at Meryton," replied Jane.

"This account then is what he has received from Mr. Darcy," she concluded on a sagely nod and with such clear statement, Jane could harbour no resentment. "I am satisfied," professed Elizabeth. "But what does he say of the living?"

"He does not exactly recollect the circumstances- though he has heard them from Mr. Darcy more than once," Jane replied without hesitation, "but he believes that it was left to him conditionally only."

 _But of course, he would. Would one have a cause to doubt a friend?_ Thought she.

"I have not a doubt of Mr. Bingley's sincerity," Elizabeth declared to her sister; "but you must excuse my not being convinced by assurances only. Mr. Bingley's defense of his friend was a very able one, I dare say; but since he is unacquainted with several parts of the story, and has learnt the rest from that friend himself, I shall venture to still think of both gentlemen as I did before."

And she did exactly just that; very much to Jane's chagrin.

In all truthfulness, Fitzwilliam could acknowledge that the ball was not so worst as he would have anticipated. Though Charles had suggested it many a time that he could seek his bed prior to the commencement of the ball, Fitzwilliam saw no need for it except that it would only fuel the conception that he was pride and disdaining of meeting with the people of Hertfordshire. The conception in itself had no disturbance with him; it was not for him to care about what people said behind his back and thus, he found himself with no reason for the special attentions he had paid to his toilette- such that even his valet was veritably surprised at the dark blue cravat he had him tie around his neck when he hitherto had never worn one.

His gaze had sought out the one person he had chagrined it not to observe as soon as her family was admitted by an announcement into the drawing room. As he observed her, a tight constriction had appeared in his eyes that only disappeared after a cough or two- of which Bingley persevered in openly looking at him with a little smile on his face. He had ignored his friend in favour of turning his gaze back from whence it came. Elizabeth Bennet was dressed in what Caroline or Louisa might call 'simple' or 'unfashionable' but she carried her dress well. Her dress was of scarlet- in a shade not much unlike those of the officers but it was befitting on her form and the wide square neckline showed the perfection of her skin. A circlet of twisted silk material in conformity with the scarlet of her gown encircled her hair and her dark curls fell in ringlets upon her temple, framing her lovely eyes and bestowing on them, the appearance of mystery. Hers was a mystery he yearned to unravel despite his many attempts to keep himself away from her.

In the end, he had walked to her and asked her hand in a dance; and he had so surprised her and himself that her answer was rendered positively without hesitation. His retreat had been swift lest she changed her mind. For the entire duration of the dance, his mind had been occupied with how easily she fit into his hand and he had waged a silent dispute in his head in an attempt to figure out who his companion truly was. His silent reflections had done him no good in her favour- and neither did his speech for that matter.

His short speech and only reference about their very first meeting hadn't been in agreement to her pleasure. He could perceive of her disdain upon him but she had refused to take the hint to explain to him what her business at the tavern had been. Though, he admitted to himself that his approach had been less than desirable; so disconcerted he was at the combined thoughts of George Wickham- a subject _she_ had raised quite deliberately, he was certain, to goad him, her reputation and the tolerable feeling she roused within him, and the thoughts of his friend Charles with Jane Bennet, whom he could tell was preventing nothing of his infatuation with Elizabeth's sister and of which he didn't think it too wise to do so. All these thoughts were crammed into his head along with the feelings aroused as a consequence of Elizabeth's body in his arms and he was afraid that his intended gentle enquiry into the affairs of _that night_ had been anything but. He had felt most ignored and the silence that prevailed afterwards was absolute. It was most unfortunate that the end of the dance was not far in coming thence.

At present, he was standing with Caroline Bingley who was filling his ears with the enrapturement that she attributed to none other than Elizabeth with Wickham. This time, he could not fault Caroline's words for Elizabeth in as many words had impacted on him just so. He still observed her from the corner of his eyes and saw her conversing with her cousin. She appeared to be in alarm over something he was saying and he would be none too surprised if the subject matter was his very self. Shortly, the cousin made his appearance before him.

"Mr. Darcy, sir, accept my unreserved apology for intruding upon your kind self this instant without the benefit of a previous introduction," began the man with a bow. Caroline gave an offended gasp at the insolence but he quelled her reaction with a look. "Indeed I am pained to disturb one such as yourself, but I only just gained intelligence of your connections to my patroness, Lady Catherine De Bourgh; and I shall never forgive myself- nor would she forgive me if I did not hasten to introduce myself to anyone who is so connected to her." Here, he paused for breath and when the man could hear no rebuke for his act, continued: "I had the singular fortune of being recommended by your aunt to be the rector at the vicarage at Kent and have my humble abode for a parsonage only within a few walking distance of Rosing's park. I have the singular honour of assuring you, dear sir, that her ladyship was quite well yesterday when I left her and her daughter whither here.

To such lengthy and nonsensical speech, Darcy could form no other reply but; "It is pleasing to hear of my aunt and I know with perfect understanding of Lady Catherine's discernment as to be certain she could never bestow a favour unworthily and thus I am sure that you deserve the recommendation."

His answer seemed to inflate something in the man for his chest appeared to swell unaccountably and he began another rhapsody- this time in extreme praises of his aunt and her generous nature. Fitzwilliam would have thought the man highly confused in his description were he not so prone to mention his aunt by name in his professions. Darcy then decided that this man alone would have to entertain such impressions of Lady Catherine's character for Darcy knew his mother's sister well enough and she was anything but affable, generous and agreeable and all other qualifications with which the man attributed to her. The clergyman's nonsense soon made him go weary and after his exceeding praises, Darcy took a low bow, and said: "Please extend my warm regards to my dear aunt upon your return to Hunsford," and left with Caroline on his heels, for Bingley who was attending to Jane in a corner of the room.

In his belief, Fitzwilliam deemed Charles worthy of a rescue from Jane Bennet for if his friend continued in this manner, he would create a scandal of his own making- patronising Jane Bennet as he persevered in doing and would have no other alternative than to make a proposal. However, before he could reach them, Jane took herself off in the direction of her sister who had been joined again by their cousin, the clergyman. Only then did Fitzwilliam realize than the man, though extremely loquacious had forgot to mention his own name to him. He was but three feet away from Bingley when Caroline prevailed upon him to have the last dance with her. When next he chanced to look in Bingley's direction again, he was with Jane Bennet once more.

Thereafter they were all called to supper and by some design which Darcy knew could be none other than his friend's, Jane Bennet was stationed on his right at the head of the table while his sisters sat on his left followed by himself. In increasing concern, Darcy listened to the conversation around the table (as treasured by Mrs. Bennet as she made no attempt to lower her voice in her boasts) about his friend nigh proposing to Miss Bennet before the end of the year.

In what seemed like a _very_ long time, the evening came to an end and so did the ball; allowing the Bennet family to finally take their leave of the house. By design of Mrs. Bennet, the family was the last to leave amidst effusiveness of appreciation and insinuations on the part of the mother that gave his sisters, particularly Caroline, no small amount of irritation. Thankfully, Mrs. Bennet's invitation to dine at Longbourn had been refused by Bingley himself with the sincere excuse and utmost regrets that he was repairing to town for a business affair the next day. The woman had left with a promise from Bingley to act on her invitation as soon as he returned.

Caroline Bingley fell on a chair sofa in the dinner in a most unlady like manner with a suffering sigh that bordered between outrage and disbelief.

"Never in all my twenty and two years have I come upon a family so unruly, so ill mannered, so unfashionable as the Bennets!" she cried as soon as she was joined by others. "Mrs. Bennet is so noisy and I cannot begin to speak about her ridiculousness- I have no one else to blame but you, Charles, for making me go through such embarrassment of a family. Upon my word, for a family with absolutely no connections to recommend them, it would be thought that they would know their place, but obviously, they do not!"

Charles only glanced upon her briefly and in perfect disregard for the concerns expressed in her speech, left the room with a besotted smile upon his face.

"Charles!" Caroline cried after him but he did not alter the length of his stride in difference to her calls nor did he pause at all.

"Louisa, Mr. Darcy," Caroline turned to the others with beseeching eyes; she did not bother to direct her address to Mr. Hurst for no sooner had the man fallen on a chair close to hers had he promptly fell asleep; "what would you have us do? Charles cannot continue so in this, this besotted manner! His manners right now are so appalling to the extent that something needs to be done about it with utmost alacrity."

"And what would you expect of his manners?" scoffed Mrs. Hurst, "when he has taken to spending large amounts of time with that family. I am afraid that their ill breeding is beginning to tell on him!"

"Did you hear the mother speak over supper? - and so loudly too!" commented Caroline, momentarily distracted by the chance to speak ill of the Bennet family. "She had all the guest believe that they would soon be attending a wedding- her daughter's and my brother's- may heavens forbid the very thought!"

"And the middle sister- did you hear her sing at all?" Mrs. Hurst shuddered like the event she described with such disdain would endeavour to repeat itself again. Indeed, Mary had rendered two songs over supper with vocal pride, but without vocal brilliance which was not as bad as the current scorn warranted. "Verily, I have never beheld such pride in a person with such low accomplishments in what _she_ herself professed to be her calling."

"You did not have the misfortune of sitting close to the two youngest daughters," Caroline groused. "All they could speak of was who of the red coats were handsomest, who danced better and which was better suited to a match to themselves! I doubt if they touched their food at all with their connivance to ensnare an officer! I certainly could not touch mine for their ceaseless, meaningless prattle!"

The two treated themselves to a hateful laughter before Caroline thus continued:

"And what can Elizabeth Bennet mean by wearing that ridiculous dress? Was she perhaps thinking of matching the outfits of the officers? Louisa, I grieved that I might need smelling salts when I saw such colour on her!"

"I think the entire family insufferable, my heart goes to poor Jane for her lot in life; coming from a family such as the Bennets," Mrs. Hurst said delicately. "I am afraid that her beauty and manners will afford her ill opportunity of garnering the attentions of a man of any connections at all given the state of her family."

Mr. Darcy's presence in the room might as well be forgotten, but at Mrs. Hurst last comment, he made a reply which Caroline had ere dwelled upon before the opportunity to abuse the entire Bennet family presented itself and therefore, caused her to be distracted.

"There will be no need for her to ensnare the attentions of _any_ man since she already has those of _your_ brother," he pointed out in a quiet voice that nonetheless impacted the weight of his meanings to the two sisters.

For the first time, the Bingley sisters were thrown into a silence that was absolute. They made no gasp, no answer, so great was their shock at the realization that they would have to suffer the presence of the Bennet family in the nearest future if their brother was allowed to continue on the course he seemed to have embarked on already.

Observing now that he had their attentions to himself, Darcy explained to them how he planned to have Bingley's ridiculous enchantment done away with and the Bennet family out of their lives forever. Both sisters praised him immensely for his ingenuity and thereafter expressed further abuse to the Bennet family. Caroline especially now thought him a confidant in her dislike for the family but little did she know that he had no quarrels with the family at all. His understanding of the world did not delude him to the intelligence that there were no families with their nonsensicalities and affectations and that those of the Bennet's family was in the silliness of the mother and the youngest daughters- outside these, Darcy thought the family was as much the same as any other.

His only quarrel with the lot was Elizabeth Bennet and it was because of her that he derived the plot he just narrated to the sisters. Her _other_ preoccupation if word of it were to leak to the society would destroy not only her family but Bingley's too. This, Darcy could not allow befall his beloved friend not even for his obvious attractions for Jane Bennet.

He reckoned that there were many such handsome women in Great Britain, and that Charles would sooner forget Jane and meet another of such than fall into peril of a mismatch.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

There was not a place in the whole of Hertfordshire that was hotter than Longbourn at the precise moment. In the space of a night's sleep and a morning's breakfast, all hell had come loose; precipitated entirely by Mr. Collin's proposal to Elizabeth's and fuelled by Mrs. Bennet outrage at her audacity to refuse 'such a fine gentleman and brilliant offer'.

The proposal in itself was very lengthy and not lacking in effusive display of feelings but as was the character of the man doing the proposal, it was an epitome of such arrant nonsense that were she in a position to advise him upon his mannerisms, Elizabeth certainly would do so but since it would only add injury to insult, her decline would have to do.

"Believe me, my dear Miss Elizabeth," so Mr. Collins had started after excusing Mrs. Bennet and Kitty to speak in confinement with Elizabeth, "that your modesty, so far from doing you any disservice, rather adds to your other perfections. You would have been less amiable in my eyes had there not been this little unwillingness; but allow me to assure you, that I have your respected mother's permission for this address. You can hardly doubt the purport of my discourse, however your natural delicacy may lead you to dissemble; my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken. Almost as soon as I entered the house, I singled you out as the companion of my future life. But before I am run away with by my feelings on this subject, perhaps it would be advisable for me to state my reasons for marrying- and, moreover, for coming into Hertfordshire with the design of selecting a wife, as I certainly did."

Since he was saying nothing of which Elizabeth had no inkling before, she had allowed him to continue uninterrupted though his words were grating on her ears not to mention her nerves.

"My reasons for marrying are, first," continued he, "that I think it a right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances- like myself to set the example of matrimony in his parish; secondly, that I am convinced that it will add greatly to my happiness; and thirdly- which perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling patroness. Twice has she condescended to give me her opinion on this subject; and it was but the very Saturday night before I left Hunsford- between our pools at quadrille, while Mrs. Jenkinson was arranging Miss de Bourgh's footstool, that she said, 'Mr. Collins, you must marry. A clergyman like you must marry. Choose properly, choose a gentlewoman for my sake; and for your own, let her be an active, useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small income go a good way. This is my advice. Find such a woman as soon as you can, bring her to Hunsford, and I will visit her.' Allow me, by the way, to observe, my fair cousin; that I do not reckon the notice and kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh as among the least of the advantages in my power to offer. You will find her manners beyond anything I can describe; and your wit and vivacity, I think, must be acceptable to her, especially when tempered with the silence and respect which her rank will inevitably excite. Thus much for my general intention in favour of matrimony; it remains to be told why my views were directed towards Longbourn instead of my own neighbourhood, where I can assure you there are many amiable young women. But the fact is, that being, as I am, to inherit this estate after the death of your honoured father (who, however, may live many years longer), I could not satisfy myself without resolving to choose a wife from among his daughters, that the loss to them might be as little as possible, when the melancholy event takes place- which, however, as I have already said, may not be for several years. This has been my motive, my fair cousin, and I flatter myself it will not sink me in your esteem. And now nothing remains for me but to assure you in the most animated language of the violence of my affection. To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, and shall make no demand of that nature on your father, since I am well aware that it could not be complied with; and that one thousand pounds in the four per cents, which will not be yours till after your mother's decease, is all that you may ever be entitled to. On that head, therefore, I shall be uniformly silent; and you may assure yourself that no ungenerous reproach shall ever pass my lips when we are married."

The lengthiness alone was enough to put a woman of less strength and fortitude to sleep but Elizabeth bore it all with forbearance worthy of praises; but since there was none other than herself and Mr. Collins in the room, she contended herself with:

"You are too hasty, sir. You forget that I have made no answer. Let me do it without further loss of time. Accept my thanks for the compliment you are paying me. I am very sensible of the honour of your proposals, but it is impossible for me to do otherwise than to decline them."

This, Mr. Collins waved off with one impertinent hand saying: "I am not now to learn that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second, or even a third time. I am, therefore, by no means discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long."

No amount of conviction would persuade Mr. Collins that she spoke gravely and without pretence- not even her remark that Lady Catherine might as well disapprove of her. He relegated her decline to the coquettishness of elegant females and hoped that the persuasion of her 'excellent parents' would yield in his favour. Elizabeth saw no other recourse than to repeat her position to him firmly and withdraw from the room.

News of Elizabeth's decline reached her mother from Mr. Collin's mouth himself and he was left with a state of assurance- that Elizabeth shall be prevailed upon by herself and her father to accept the proposal albeit her headstrong nature and foolishness was prone to make her act in a brash manner. To this later statement, Mr. Collins deemed it fit to add a threat that, "but if she is really headstrong and foolish, I know not whether she would altogether be a very desirable wife to a man in my situation, who naturally looks for happiness in the marriage state. If therefore she actually persists in rejecting my suit, perhaps it were better not to force her into accepting me, because if liable to such defects of temper, she could not contribute much to my felicity."

Mrs. Bennet was quick to assure him that it was _only_ in cases such as this that her second eldest daughter was headstrong and he should be assured of her acceptance. However, her petition to Mr. Bennet who was in the library all the while the drama was unfolding in his house was most unfavourable. After lending voice to her complaint, Mr. Bennet had Elizabeth herself summoned to the library to give her account of the story.

"I have sent for you on an affair of importance," said he when she made her entrance and Mrs. Bennet nodded in agreement to his words. "I understand that Mr. Collins has made you an offer of marriage. Is it true?"

"Yes it is true sir," replied Elizabeth with utmost confidence that her father, unlike her mother, shared her opinion that Mr. Collins was conceited, pompous and as such unfitting for _any_ of his daughters.

"Very well- and this offer of marriage you have refused?" Mr. Bennet proceeded.

"I have, sir," replied she.

"Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insists upon your accepting it. Is it not so, Mrs. Bennet?"

"Yes," her mother said with emphasis obviously enjoying the upbraiding as she saw it. "Or I will never see her again."

Mr. Bennet sighed gravely. "An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again if you _do_."

And such was how Elizabeth gained victory over both Mr. Collins and her mother; how Mr. Collins came to accept his rejection for what it truly was and how Mrs. Bennet came to be attacked by a severe case of failing nerves that prompted her to grouse every second of the day about how irresponsible her daughters were, how much she endeavoured by them to ensure they lived a good life and how ill used she was in her own home.

There was no reprieve to be had except perhaps in sleep for her complaints were long and unceasing.

Till the next day, her failing nerves endured and her bitterness was transferred to Mr. Collins who contrary to Elizabeth's supposition that he might leave earlier than intended on account of her refusal, remained in Longbourn and declared that Saturday remained his day of removal from Longbourn. It was yet Thursday and Elizabeth despaired already of the days to follow for Mr. Collins' reproachful stares and her mother's poor nerves were such powerful combination that was tearing away at her sanity.

Perhaps, the situation was at last gripped with some semblance of control by the arrival of Miss Bingley's letter for Jane. Elizabeth was with her sister as she read the letter and immediately read from her sister's change in countenance that something was definitely amiss. And it was- for the content of the letter- when Jane revealed it to her when they were alone was one that immediately rose in Elizabeth a sense of righteous indignation on her sister's behalf towards the entire Bingley party; the Bingley's sisters and Mr. Darcy for what she perceived could only be their connivance and Mr. Bingley for being too weak to overcome the persuasion of his friend and sisters. Mr. Hurst was relevantly inconsequential to her thoughts. From the tone of Miss Bingley in the letter, the party had departed with no intentions of ever returning.

Elizabeth's anger was adequately justified for the letter read thus:

" _Dearest Jane,_

 _I believe that by the time this letter shall reach you, we; myself, Louisa, Mr. Hurst and Mr. Darcy would be on our way to town after my brother who left earlier this morning. Though he has the advantage of time over us, we mean to dine in Grosvenor Street, where Mr. Hurst had a house and by the morrow, we shall continue the journey. I do not pretend to regret anything I shall leave in Hertfordshire, except your society, my dearest friend; but we will hope, at some future period, to enjoy many returns of that delightful intercourse we have known, and in the meanwhile may lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most unreserved correspondence. I depend on you for that. When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that the business which took him to London might be concluded in three or four days; but as we are certain it cannot be so, and at the same time convinced that when Charles gets to town he will be in no hurry to leave it again, we have determined on following him thither, that he may not be obliged to spend his vacant hours in a comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintances are already there for the winter; I wish that I could hear that you, my dearest friend, had any intention of making one of the crowd- but of that I despair. I sincerely hope your Christmas in Hertfordshire may abound in the gaieties which that season generally brings, and that your beaux will be so numerous as to prevent your feeling the loss of the three of whom we shall deprive you._

 _Mr. Darcy is impatient to see his sister; and, to confess the truth, we are scarcely less eager to meet her again. I really do not think Georgiana Darcy has her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments; and the affection she inspires in Louisa and myself is heightened into something still more interesting, from the hope we dare entertain of her being hereafter our sister. I do not know whether I ever before mentioned to you my feelings on this subject; but I will not leave the country without confiding them, and I trust you will not esteem them unreasonable. My brother admires her greatly already; he will have frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most intimate footing; her relations all wish the connection as much as his own; and a sister's partiality is not misleading me, I think, when I call Charles most capable of engaging any woman's heart. With all these circumstances to favour an attachment, and nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest Jane, in indulging the hope of an event which will secure the happiness of so many?"_

 _Till I hear from you, dearest friend,_

 _Caroline Bingley._

All attempts to persuade Jane of her conviction that Caroline, her sister and Mr. Darcy all contrived the move to town as a scheme to waylay Mr. Bingley and keep him in town and away from Jane fell on deaf ears. Jane, ever so ready to disbelief of any ill towards anybody refuted her statements. Secretly, Elizabeth entertained the idea that the scheme might very well be because of what Mr. Darcy conceived of _her_ but she could not tell Jane so.

"You do not know Caroline as I do- she is incapable of wilfully deceiving anyone," said Jane. To this, despite knowing otherwise, Elizabeth could form no reply, but she persisted in instilling in her sister hope that Mr. Bingley would return perhaps in the winter and continue with the courtship he so adoringly began. However, Jane despaired that his sisters wanted him to marry someone else. "But, my dear sister, can I be happy, even supposing the best, in accepting a man whose sisters and friends are all wishing him to marry elsewhere?"

Here, Elizabeth sighed her frustration at Jane's consideration for the sisters who had no love for _her._ "You must decide for yourself and if, upon mature deliberation, you find that the misery of disobliging his two sisters is more than equivalent to the happiness of being his wife, I advise you by all means to refuse him."

This passionate speech elicited a smile upon Jane's lips and Elizabeth was gratified for Jane took the letter with great despondency thus far. "How can you talk so?" said Jane. "You must know that though I should be exceedingly grieved at their disapprobation, I could not hesitate."

"I did not think you would," returned Elizabeth.

"But if he returns no more this winter, my choice will never be required. A thousand things may arise in six months!"

In those words, Jane was sensible, but Elizabeth dared to hope that her trust in Mr. Bingley's love would supersede the plot of his friends and sisters. Already, she could imagine how much poison Mr. Darcy and Caroline would feed him with when they finally met with him in town. If he was taken in by them, Elizabeth would be greatly disappointed in him- but she knew it was likely. Mr. Bingley did not appear to her as a man who strayed far from the influence of his family and friends and though it was an admirable quality on a general note, it was less than desirable to her simply because her sister's feelings were involved. They both agreed, however, that Jane should send a reply to Miss Bingley to keep the interactions intact and by so doing, gain more intelligence about the situation.

Mrs. Bennet was only informed by agreement of Jane and Elizabeth lest they added salt to injury- that the Netherfield party had repaired to town and thus allowed her to form her opinions thereof. This distracted her attentions significantly from Elizabeth's 'disgraceful conduct and disobedience'.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

The situation at Longbourn was at last relieved- or in some opinions, aggravated- by none other than Elizabeth's friend, Charlotte Lucas, whom the entire Bennets and Mr. Collins dined with her family on Thursday evening. Having visited the Bennets the exact day of the proposal and heard the news therefrom, Charlotte relieved Elizabeth of Mr. Collins' wrathful stares by engaging him in discourses to her side. For this, Elizabeth was immensely grateful and she heartily encouraged the aside.

However, the engagement arose in Mr. Collins another set of wondrous feelings; for what other encouragement was there to be had in a female than the willingness to listen to one's speech and appear enraptured by them?

To this effect, Mr. Collins convinced himself of a receptive mind in Charlotte Lucas and purported to re-channel his effusions of love to her listening ears before he took his leave of Hertfordshire the very next day. Charlotte, for a lack of excuse, could only say for herself that if her friend would not have Mr. Collins, for whatever reason only she could fathom, _she_ certainly would- for her heart though previously hopeful of love was now dead and no illusions of a marriage filled with love had she; not anymore. So, it was with all in her wit that she engaged careful attentiveness to him that though would inform him of her willingness to receive him, would also not put her in a bad way with her friend Elizabeth.

In effect, she did receive her proposal very early on Friday morning a little before breakfast at Longbourn. That same morning, she had been sitting in her room, staring longingly at Longbourn and despairing that all her encouragements had gone in vain. It was too soon; only between Wednesday and Thursday; for Mr. Collins to adjust his choice of a wife but therein, she belittled the powers of Mr. Collins determination not to fail his patroness and self-confidence. Alas, she saw him hasten up the path that led from Longbourn to Lucas Lodge, wrapped up nicely against the cold with determined strides that did justice to his tall figure. It was that exact moment that Charlotte decided that she would take a walk along the path herself.

So it was that they just happened to meet in the shrubbery close to Lucas Lodge where Mr. Collins fell on his knees in a most charming manner and delivered his proposal in a most affectionately lengthy monologue.

Charlotte wasted no time in accepting and together, they proceeded into the house to inform Sir and Lady Lucas who both were ecstatic at the news, for Charlotte had little chance of a better prospect as a consequence of the little dowry they could bestow to her. Her sisters and brothers received the news with great felicity; their ranking and chances of marriage were sure to increase by the connections of their sister's soon-to-be husband. Mr. Collins, thereafter, went back to Longbourn with a promise from his engaged not to disclose the affair to the family; for she wanted the 'pleasure' of telling it to Elizabeth first.

Mr. Collins pronounced his farewell to the family after dinner on the same night. In this regard of his oath to Charlotte, the clergyman kept to his word despite the burning need to inform the entire family on his successful new love and impeding marital status in Charlotte Lucas. So that night, he only said his farewells to his fair nieces who- particularly Elizabeth bade him the same with utmost relief. Mrs. Bennet, in an attempt to compensate for the disappointment he had received in her daughter _and_ in a self-deceiving hope that the proposal might yet be repeated (to Mary this time around) and accepted, invited him for another stay soon and at this, Mr. Collins was over-joyous. He promised to avail himself of the invitation, much to the dismay of Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth who were impatient to see him go. He left the following morning without fanfare.

Charlotte Lucas came visiting the same morning after breakfast. When alone with Elizabeth, she disclosed the true purpose of her visit much to the shocked discomposure of her friend who blurted out without prior thoughts and delicacy: "Engaged to Mr. Collins! My dear Charlotte- impossible!"

This hurt her friend but a little for she was not so insensible as to think the news would be received with very great warmth and congratulations. As calm as a summer sky, she replied, "Why should you be surprised, my dear Eliza? Do you think it incredible that Mr. Collins should be able to procure any woman's good opinion, because he was not so happy as to succeed with you?"

Elizabeth took a moment of recollection to study Charlotte's steady composure and saw in her eyes, a challenge, a daring to convince her out of her decision. Elizabeth also recognized the vessel which precipitated her friend's reaction.

"Nay, dearest Charlotte," she hastened to say, "I was merely taken in by your announcement. Be certain that I wish you all happiness in this match and bear you no grudge."

"I see what you are feeling," Charlotte replied, quite unmoved by Elizabeth's quick candour. "You must be surprised, very much surprised- so lately as Mr. Collins was wishing to marry you. But when you have had time to think it over, I hope you will be satisfied with what I have done. I am not romantic, you know; I never was. I ask only a comfortable home; and considering Mr. Collins's character, connection, and situation in life, I am convinced that my chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the marriage state."

It was true that her friend was never romantic, but last year, someone had instilled in her a sense of romance and she had had a clandestine affair with him. The man was married and in the duration of the affair, his wife had repaired to town suddenly, with speculations of an annulment in the air. The couple's marriage was five years gone with no issues yet; the Lawrences they were, but never had Elizabeth seen a more mismatched couple than the two for they never seemed to agree on any score even in public. Just as suddenly as the wife's disappearance, Elizabeth began to notice her friend's change in disposition particularly when Mr. Lawrence was near. She had put her numbers together and challenged Charlotte candidly, eliciting a confession that Mr. Lawrence had wooed her and the affair was underway already with a promise of marriage as soon as the encumbrances of his annulment was done with.

Elizabeth had sought to convince her friend of Mr. Lawrence's lies. She had the misfortune of being his first target of professions of undying love and promise of marriage and that was three months _before_ his wife repaired to town. She had sent him on his way with a warning to expose his infidelity should he repeat his actions. Obviously, he had forgotten about her and settled for her friend. Perceiving that Charlotte would only be convinced with physical evidence- so far gone was she in love with Mr. Lawrence for indeed, the man was not without immense charms; Elizabeth decided on a scheme that would put the deceit out of her friend. This scheme had led them to Fitzwilliam Tavern where she had unwittingly met Darcy for the first time.

"Would your choice to settle for Mr. Collins be remotely related to _him_?" she asked at her own peril.

Her question was well understood- for no sooner had their scheme worked than Mrs. Lawrence resumed again at Garywood like nothing happened. The look that Charlotte however favoured upon her would have sufficed to melt a stone.

"Of course not," Charlotte said.

"Then, know that I wish you nothing but happiness," Elizabeth told her friend, perceiving no other manner of ending the discourse and the awkwardness with which it was engaged.


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Sir Lucas himself came to bear the news of his daughter's engagement to the Longbourn household. Of course, none believed him and Lydia, unrestrained as the rest of the family exclaimed:

"Good Lord! Sir William, how can you tell such a story? Do not you know that Mr. Collins wants to marry Lizzy?"

Her statement was as much as calling the man an outright tale carrier, a liar, but as was with the man who never failed to be congenial, he carried on and emphasized upon the certainty of his words. Only Elizabeth's interruption, however, rendered credibility to his story and he left, grateful to her. Her family turned to her as soon as he left, asking how she came to gain intelligence and how she was so composed.

"I declined Mr. Collins' offer, did I not?" she told her family. "Why, therefore, would I receive such information with anything but composure?"

Jane was in agreement with her as well as Mr. Bennet who retired to the library in the hope of escaping his wife's censure which was sure to come; but in the present, she was still yet uncommonly tongue-tied at the news. Mary couldn't care one way or the other who married whom and the two youngest daughters were interested only for gossip material to spread.

Mrs. Bennet's state of reticence was, however, short-lived and found its target in Elizabeth.

"You insolent child," she vented, "you have succeeded in thwarting the _only_ chance of this family of holding on to Longbourn. If this engagement is true and I daresay that if it is, that the two could never be happy together- for Charlotte Lucas is incredibly plain and Mr. Collins cannot prefer her to you or any of my girls for that matter, then it is your fault that this has happened and I hope you delight in the misery of the whole family."

Elizabeth could not dare to inform her mother that none in the family was grieved by the engagement but she.

The days went by and things, it seemed, were at an utter standstill for the Bennet family. Mrs. Bennet was still unbelieving that two promises of wedding had knocked on her door for her two eldest daughters and none of the two had been realized. She never failed to bemoan her plight and her attack of failing nerves was ever on the increase. A lack of correspondence from the Netherfield party matched one from Mr. Collins who was so effusive in his appreciation to the family for his stay that Mr. Bennet skipped two long paragraphs entirely. In the next, Mr. Collins informed the family of his engagement, thus confirming to them all- particularly Mrs. Bennet who still voiced her doubt of the whole 'sordid' affair. To put it nicely, Mrs. Bennet's cordiality to Sir and Lady Lucas received a spiral decline downwards, and civility to the family was not to be patronized.

When Caroline Bingley's letter arrived, Jane saw in it a confirmation of her earlier fears- Mr. Bingley was to return no more to Netherfield. This was inferred from Miss Bingley's comment relaying her brother's regret that he was unable to pay his last respects to his friends in Hertfordshire before he took his departure. There could be no clearer message. Elizabeth despaired for her sister but with equal measure of anger directed mostly at Mr. Bingley, for in her opinion, only a weakness in character could ensure his persuasion not to make a return to Netherfield.

She consoled Jane as she could, trying still to convince her sister that Mr. Bingley loved her and might one day yet realize it. However, the news in Caroline's letter referred to his enraptures with Miss Darcy and Jane would not believe her. All in all, Jane's hope for love was dashed away and that of Mrs. Bennet for her daughter's settlement with such a man of high connections was gone. Her daughters were not permitted to rest on the matter.

A few weeks before Christmas, some rapid visits were witnessed at Longbourn.

That of Mr. Collins came first. His visit was little tolerated this time around by Mrs. Bennet (and nothing had scarce changed with Mr. Bennet for he still thought his cousin absolutely ridiculous) despite extending it upon his departure the first time around. However, the visit was short- to exact a date of his wedding with his intended and the chief of it was spent at Lucas Lodge. His departure was succeeded by the visit of Mrs. Bennet's brother and his wife. Mr. Gardiner, as opposed to his sister, had a good head on his shoulders that constantly engaged Mr. Bennet's thoughts upon any relation between them at all. His wife, younger to Mrs. Bennet by several years was also agreeable, sensible, pleasant and mature enough as to endear herself particularly to the two eldest daughters of the family.

In no time, Mrs. Bennet informed Mrs. Gardiner how she was ill used by her family, how Elizabeth refused a prosperous proposal, how her husband failed her in ordering an acceptance and how Jane was disappointed in the affairs of love.

Of all the accounts, Mrs. Gardiner could only reckon with the news about Jane's disappointment and sought immediately, to comfort her niece by talking first to Elizabeth whom she trusted to render to her the _clear_ account. Elizabeth in turn revealed to her aunt that Jane's plight was none other brought by a connivance of Mr. Bingley's trusted friend and sisters and that she expected him to act on his love if it was ever true though it may be long.

"I never saw a more promising inclination," she informed Mrs. Gardiner, "he was growing quite inattentive to other people, and wholly engrossed by her. Every time they met, it was more decided and remarkable. At his own ball he offended two or three young ladies, by not asking them to dance; and I spoke to him twice myself, without receiving an answer. Could there be finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the very essence of love?"

On this, Mrs. Gardiner wholly agreed; "Oh, yes! Of that kind of love which I suppose him to have felt. Poor Jane! I am sorry for her, because, with her disposition, she may not get over it immediately. It had better have happened to you, Lizzy; you would have laughed yourself out of it sooner. But do you think she would be prevailed upon to go back with us? Change of scene might be of service- and perhaps a little relief from home may be as useful as anything."

The proposal was heartily agreed upon by Elizabeth on behalf of her sister, and told her aunt so who replied that she hoped that "no consideration with regard to this young man will influence her. We live in so different a part of town, all our connections are so different and, as you well know, we go out so little, that it is very improbable that they should meet at all, unless he really comes to see her."

In the end, Jane agreed and the fate was decided upon. In her imminent departure, however, Elizabeth mourned for she would lose her only sensible companion in the house besides her father who oftentimes got busy on the farm or in his library. The only activities to be looked forward to were Wickham's visit which were becoming increasingly regular in the Bennet's home, Mr. Collins return for the wedding, the wedding itself and Charlotte's departure with her husband to Kent. Of the activities, only the first was desirable and deserving of Elizabeth's pleasure such that her aunt noticed the preference between Wickham and herself a few days before she took her leave of the house with her husband and Jane. Of this, she purported to speak to Elizabeth in seclusion whither she spoke candidly of discouraging Elizabeth from falling in love with Wickham. Though she knew of Wickham and his connection with the late Mr. Darcy from her days in Derbyshire, it was by no ill knowledge of him that she did not recommend him to her niece. In her opinion, Mr. Bennet depended too much on Elizabeth for sensibility in his family and it would hurt him were she to choose Wickham for a spouse as he could have nothing to offer the family but his handsomeness and affability. Elizabeth had her family to consider, she emphasized on her niece.

"At present I am not in love with Mr. Wickham," Elizabeth informed her aunt. "I certainly am not. But he is, beyond all comparison, the most agreeable man I ever saw- and if he becomes really attached to me- I believe it will be better that he should not. I see the imprudence of it. Oh! That abominable Mr. Darcy! My father's opinion of me does me the greatest honour, and I should be miserable to forfeit it. When I am in company with him, I will not be wishing. In short, I will do my best."

In her speech, her aunt saw her sincerity but not an effort so she suggested, "Perhaps it will be as well if you discourage his coming here so very often. At least, you should not remind your mother of inviting him."

"As I did the other day. Very true, it will be wise in me to refrain from that," admitted Elizabeth with some ruefulness of spirit. "But do not imagine that he is always here so often. It is on your account that he has been so frequently invited this week. You know my mother's ideas as to the necessity of constant company for her friends. But really, and upon my honour, I will try to do what I think to be the wisest; and now I hope you are satisfied."

Mrs. Gardiner saw at last her niece's seriousness and contended herself with that. She was a woman who wanted the best for her nieces irrespective of their own dispositions but Elizabeth was her personal favourite and she still held the wish for her yet that she might find a suitable match better suited to her character and want in life.

Elizabeth took this candid advice to heart and admitted that she was in no danger of falling in love with him, or he with her, for while he couldn't be recommended to her because he had no fortune to offer her, she couldn't also be recommended to _him_ for the same reason. She was also sensible to know that there was no fault in both their thinking- such was the way of the world and she held no bitterness in her heart at it.

Her sister soon left with the Gardiners, Mr. Collins returned but lodged with the Lucases, and on the morrow after the wedding, Charlotte was to leave. It really was a chain of events that did nothing to comfort Elizabeth in the least. Her friend came over to Longbourn to pay her farewell visit and in so doing charged Elizabeth to come visit her in Hunsford.

"My father and Maria are coming to me in March, and I hope you will consent to be of the party. Indeed, Eliza, you will be as welcome as either of them."

To this entreaty, Elizabeth could make no decline lest she appeared distressed by her friend's happiness. Also, the Lawrences had finally quitted Garywood and indeed, all seemed to be going well for her friend. Elizabeth would only have found it easy to be happy were the spouse any other than her cousin. His insipidity left a bad impression in her and she could only hope for Charlotte's happiness in face of this.

After the departure of the bride and bridegroom, nothing was ever so interesting in Hertfordshire. But for Jane's letters that frequently arrived for her (wherein her sister revealed that _she_ had waited upon Caroline Bingley in their part of the town but hadn't seen the brother; and that when she did return the visit a long while after, she was a changed personality from what Jane knew of her and therefore, Jane admitted that Elizabeth had been right in her opinions that only pretence had fuelled Caroline's preference for her), nothing would have so much interested Elizabeth in the dawning of a new day.

Wickham's attention to her weakened and was renewed in another neighbour who newly came into a fortune upon the occasion of the death of her grandfather; who bequeathed to _her_ a ten thousand pounds dowry. Elizabeth could not find it in herself to fault his deviation and comforted her unhurt pride- for she was never in love with him- that but for a lack of fortune on both their sides, she was his first and would have remained his only choice. In her letter to her aunt, she told Mrs. Gardiner all this not forgetting to include that "Kitty and Lydia take his defection much more to heart than I do. They are young in the ways of the world, and not yet open to the mortifying conviction that handsome young men must have something to live on, as well as the plain."

And after that, so boring did life in Hertfordshire grow that come January, Elizabeth began to look forward to a visit to Hunsford as she promised her friend Charlotte whose letters, along with Jane's, gave her some semblance of companionship outside her father's. The thought of Mr. Darcy was very soon relegated to a side of her mind where blame was duly apportioned to him for thwarting her sister's chance at happiness, wronging Mr. Wickham and judging herself in the most abominable manner. As far as she was concerned, he was as good as forgotten.

The only disturbance to this decision however was the tiny flutter that arose in her heart at the few times that his remembrance was called upon. Since she could hold nothing in account for this irrational feeling, she fancied that it could be nothing more than extreme dislike at the mention of the man.


	19. Chapter 18

**Just a few hours ago,** ** _When Mr. Darcy Met Sally_** **was published. I'm just letting you know, though, that I'll continue posting the chapters, right through…until the end of the story.**

Much love,

Mary-Anne Seaton

 **Chapter Eighteen**

Rosings Park was exactly as he remembered it to be and his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, was none so different either. She was as ever condescending, intruding, imposing, observant of the minutest details, wanting to know of all secret counsel and inclined to voice her opinions and commands upon every business of other people's life.

Fitzwilliam Darcy had engaged the company of his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, for an Easter visit to their aunt in Rosings Park, her country house in Kent. They were newly arrived and their aunt was all smiles and graciousness in attending to them. She was immediately upon them to give her an account of their journey and before they could string three sentences together in answer to this request, she began to render her own account of how their journey must have been and what sights they must have seen- for in her own words, 'she herself had travelled the same route a great many a times'.

Thankfully, a visitor was admitted into the breakfast parlour where they were received and Darcy could declare that he had never been so glad to see any person as he was to see Mr. Collins at the moment despite the acute recollection of Elizabeth Bennet that he brought with him. The introductions were made of which Mr. Collins proudly announced his fortune to be previously acquainted with him (not with Colonel Fitzwilliam, but he was delighted to make his acquaintance today nonetheless) at Hertfordshire and he proceeded to declare that:

"I daresay sir- that my sister, Maria and Miss Elizabeth Darcy would be delighted to renew their acquaintance with you here in Rosings Park of all places."

Darcy, who had heretofore stopped listening to the man, whom he thought was still as effusive, stupid and absurd as ever, renewed his interest in his words.

"Elizabeth Bennet?" he asked.

"Yes," Mr. Collins answered with a diffident smile that spoke of his awe of the man before him. "She is a visitor of my amiable wife and myself, at this moment, at my humble abode in Hunsford Lane."

Lady Catherine, who detested to be excluded from any conversation called his attention by asking in a querulous voice that still managed to be regal, "Indeed it will be nice to have you all renew your acquaintances over dinner sometime soon."

Mr. Collins began to say how, indeed, Lady Catherine had been everything civil as to invite his visitors to dine with her every twice in a week, but Darcy listened no more. He dwelled on this new bit of intelligence- Elizabeth was within visiting distance of Rosings Park. Though he knew not what to call this- fate or coincidence, but she was just the sight he longed to see. It was on the exact four months and four days that he had last seen the one whom he had instructed himself not to dwell upon in his thoughts again. It was four months and four days that he had heard her lively laughter; four months and four days that those wondrously long lashes had looked upon him in fierce temper and disdain and aye, he would take _those_ looks for none at all.

How he missed her.

All his reflections, however, had thus far done him no good for he was alas, forbidden from repining and the dictator of such decree was none other than himself. If he could be lenient with himself- which he certainly could not; not in _her_ affair, his only wish would have been to look upon her face once more _and_ ask her what her business at the tavern had been that night. Oh, blast that, thought Fitzwilliam Darcy. _That_ particular incident had yet to stop him from falling violently in love with the woman- for aye; he could now admit it to himself now after four long, scarcely tolerable months that his feeling for Miss Bennet was one that defied all logics to grow into one of ardour and tenderness.

Immediately upon rendering his schemes to the Bingley sisters after the ball at Netherfield, they had agreed and were inclined to act upon it as soon as the plan would allow. So it was that they all bid Charles farewell the following morning, only to ride after him the next.

Immediately, it was upon him to dissuade an astonished Charles from returning to Netherfield in pursuance of further ally with Jane Bennet and her unscrupulous family- and this he had done with mastery and conviction that his friend, though hugely disappointed, could not fail to reason along with him. The ultimate point of victory had been rendered to Bingley- that Jane Bennet whom Darcy knew was the principal form of attraction for his friend in returning to Netherfield, had no reciprocation of the feelings that Charles harboured for _her_. The hurt in his friend's eyes at this news was something of a novelty to Darcy- for he had never seen Bingley to be so despondent- that Darcy had wished for his friend's sakes alone that the whole affair didn't have to be so. However, he knew for certain that Jane had no difference in feeling to his friend. He had watched the two together and apart since Colonel Forster mentioned of the likelihood of a wedding at Netherfield and found Jane Bennet wanting- not in beauty, grace or attentiveness to Bingley, but in any feelings that bore a resemblance to that which was obvious to all in Bingley's attention to her. Therefrom, Darcy had begun to form his scheme of removing his friend from her influence- her family after all was none too desirable- if at all as to encourage the attachment for their sake.

By so doing, all things about Hertfordshire were soon forgotten, or at least _pretended_ to be forgotten. Darcy could not tell who suffered the separation the most- himself or his friend Bingley, for indeed, they both suffered- though _his_ own be unknown to any. The winter did nothing to ease their suffering as there were little activities to occupy their time. When Jane Bennet came to town in Gracechurch Street after Christmas with her uncle and aunt (the intelligence of which he gathered from Caroline Bingley), he had done all in his power to see to it that Charles was not apprised of the information. Ultimately, four months of business, balls, sports and other engagements did away the chief of all feelings leaving in its decline something of a dull ache.

The dull ache, however, felt a sharp- reawakening at the proximity of its object of pleasure and became a persistent urge to _see_ and _verify_.

"I believe it is of moral necessity to pay a visit to my friends whom I have long seen at the earliest and there could be no sooner time than now," he heard himself say even though he had conceived no such thoughts at all.

Mr. Collins was most pleasantly surprised at this, but not Lady Catherine and she sought from dissuading her nephew from such action, but once said, Darcy must insist and they made their word to Hunsford Lane; each step bringing a trepidation to Darcy's mind that bore no impressions, however on his countenance. Mr. Collins proudly admitted him into his parlour where the women of the house received them with utmost civility.

His first gaze upon Elizabeth informed him that she was as well as could be and that her eyes were as fascinating as he found them to be those months ago. However, she would not look directly upon his face, merely curtseying to him without saying a word. He applied himself to Mrs. Collins directly lest he be caught admiring her friend.

"You have a beautiful garden here and the house in itself does not suffer the touch of a woman's gentleness," he said in kind observation, though his tone of voice came out with more civility than he intended.

The acceptance of the observation was taken up by Mr. Collins rather than his wife who was yet to open her mouth to make a demure answer before her husband opened his to give more praises of all other unseen parts of the house. Colonel Fitzwilliam rescued what would have been a long rendition of praises by entering into conversation with Maria Lucas and Mrs. Collins with an ease that spoke of his affability and a lack on Darcy's side. Observing Elizabeth's quietness, he spoke to her directly, glad for the opportunity.

"I do so hope your family is well when you left them coming to Hunsford," he asked. It was the only subject he could think to ask in the awkwardness of their situation.

She answered that they were and added, "My eldest sister has been in town these three months. Have you never happened to see her there?"

The question was one he hadn't expected, so his response was halting at best, "I was not so fortunate as to meet Miss Bennet," he answered.

Elizabeth said nothing else to him but occasionally joined in Colonel Fitzwilliam's conversation from which Darcy was totally excluded. The visit came to an end scarcely half an hour later and as it appeared, only the Collinses were mighty happy with the encounter judging by the unreserved appreciation of the husband and the smiles on the face of the wife.


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

It was an evening with fine weather and the sun was now low enough in the sky to caress the skin. The fine weather was such a respite for his restlessness during tea that a walk to Hunsford Lane seemed highly necessary. Lady Catherine had persuaded him in vain to order a carriage- he truly needed the serenity that only work could bestow. Mr. Collins, his wife and her sister had come to Rosings Park for tea, while Mr. Collins had excused Elizabeth; his cousin was suddenly feeling unwell and so unable to attend tea with Lady Catherine. That said, Darcy had felt a pressing need to see Elizabeth Bennet even though it was scarcely forty eight hours he did for they dined at Rosings Park the night before last.

Many people had come and gone in Darcy's life as to make him realize the absurdity of investing one's time and self in an intimacy that might very well be gone by the next winter. His estates in Pemberley was a large one that necessitated the meeting of his tenants and other people who worked for him; in his judgement, he was a good authority when it came to the human character, but Elizabeth Bennet was one whose character he was particularly incapable of proper justification.

Every time he spent in her company endeared her to him- even those spent in silence. _That_ in itself was so rare that his curiosity alone would grant him no reprieve from his need to go in furtherance of their acquaintance. Ever since he was a small boy, groomed for the inheritance of his father's estates, he was pronounced a fine judge of disposition- why, he was scarcely fifteen before his father began to consult him in business matters. His great sense of judgement was how he knew of the duplicity of George Wickham and the shallowness of Miss Bingley even though both would not own up to their true self in the company of others. Elizabeth was, thus, an enigma to him, for he could not explain his attachment to her despite his intelligence about her decided lack of scruples, as well as her family connections.

Many times now, they had talked since he came thither to Rosings Park- the first time in Hunsford Lane, the second was their first dinner at Rosings Park since he arrived, which he had pressed his aunt to invite them- for she saw no need for their company, since she had her nephews with her. Other times, he would either go in the company of his cousin or alone to the parsonage for the sake of seeing her. Though they talked to each other less than with others, he still delighted in the meeting and soon forgot about any grievances he had against her. In vain, he struggled against his attraction for Elizabeth Bennet. When he discovered her frequent ramble within the park, he made himself a frequent visitor therein, too, and though she deliberately informed him of her inclination to walk there at a certain time of the day in a hope of discouraging him from doing likewise, he refused to be swayed in that direction.

So it was that they frequently met, but had nothing of import to share with one another. They had discussed the Netherfield party's hurried removal from Hertfordshire- and the improbability of their return; of Charlotte's marriage to Mr. Collins- and the fortune of such match; of her penchant for walking in the park- and his likewise; of her thoughts about Hunsford and other such mundane things that could be talked about. They had discussed all there was to discuss except what was uppermost in his mind- his feelings for her.

Of all their discussions, he remembered one in particular. It was this conversation that placed a determination in his heart- a determination that kept him postponing their departure from Rosings Park and made them spend nigh a week in addition to the original plan of leaving two days after Easter. The conversation had happened during the Collinses and their visitor's first dinner at Rosings Park that Darcy had precipitated.

That night, his attachment to her had given way to jealousy of his own cousin. With a smile, he remembered the events of that night as he walked down the lane to the parsonage.

The Collinses, Maria and Elizabeth, had all come to Rosings Park but he scarcely knew what the others did with themselves for he had eyes only for Elizabeth (though of course, he did all in his capacity to ensure that none was aware of his partiality). Colonel Fitzwilliam had the singular honour of conversing with Elizabeth in such an amiable tone that he had found himself incapable of preventing his eyes from looking over at them. He heard only pieces of their conversation, but enough to know that it was pleasurable enough to both; and was getting increasing irked to be held in a silly conversation about his sister with his aunt while his cousin commanded the attention of whom he wanted for himself. Perhaps, seeing his increasing inattentiveness or more likely, due to her detest for a conversation that excluded her, Lady Catherine turned from him to his cousin asking:

"What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is."

His cousin replied that they were speaking of music and Lady Catherine bade them to speak louder for she professed herself a true lover of music.

"If I had ever learnt," said she, "I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully. How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?"

Darcy who thought his escape was nigh sighed and responded that his sister was doing quite well. The lady then proceeded to render advice to the absent Georgina to be conveyed to her through her brother on how much she needed to practice to be highly proficient in all instruments.

After coffee, Colonel Fitzwilliam again attached himself to Elizabeth and prevailed upon her to play for him, sitting near to her and so doing, leaving _him_ at the mercy of his aunt once more. This time, his jealousy of his cousin outweighed his manners and he stood directly while Lady Catherine gathered air to fill her lungs in preparation for another talk. Without looking back to see if she were annoyed, he went to towards the pianoforte and stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer's countenance.

When the music Elizabeth played allowed her fingers to stay, she turned to him with a smile and said, "You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? I will not be alarmed, though your sister does play so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me."

Darcy did not let out the sigh he felt. As was her practice, Elizabeth misconstrued his intentions and thought the worst of him. He was, however, too glad for _now_ commanding her attention that he did not mind the severity in her disposition which by the by, was remarkably absent with his cousin. Only with her was he tolerant of such disapprobation and deigned it fit to reply:

"I shall not say you are mistaken, because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which in fact are not your own."

His response prompted a laugh from Elizabeth that unbeknownst to her, caused a little flutter in his chest- that sound, he had missed so sorely.

To Colonel Fitzwilliam, she applied, "Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so able to expose my real character, in a part of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit." She then turned to face Mr. Darcy. "Indeed, Mr. Darcy, it is very ungenerous in you to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire- and, give me leave to say, very impolitic too—for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such things may come out as will shock your relations to hear."

Her words and smile made _him_ smile so easily and he replied- "I am not afraid of you."

"Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of," cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. "I should like to know how he behaves among strangers."

To this entreaty, Elizabeth needed no further invitation as with the arching of her eyebrows at Darcy, she began to tell her perception of him- something he was most eager to hear himself.

"The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball- and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy, you cannot deny the fact."

"I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party," Darcy felt to say in his defence, but the lady would give him no respite for she replied most sarcastically:

"True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball-room," before saying to Colonel Fitzwilliam, "Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders."

Darcy, however, was enjoying the conversation too much to allow his cousin interference once more. "Perhaps, I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction; but I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers," he admitted.

"Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?" said Elizabeth, still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. "Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?"

"I can answer your question, without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble," replied Colonel Fitzwilliam.

"I certainly have not the talent which some people possess of conversing easily with those I have never seen before" was Darcy's excuse for the offense which was now levied against him. "I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done."

To this, Elizabeth scoffed in genteel disdain, "My fingers do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women's do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault- because I will not take the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman's of superior execution."

At her paradoxical rebuke, Darcy smiled and declared her right and praised her talents which he thought was mighty fine. The conversation was drawn to a sad end by Lady Catherine who was weary of being excluded from the conversation. Till they all left for home, the lady dominated the entire evening with instructions to Elizabeth on how to play even though she herself was not accomplished at the pianoforte.

The evening then had ended, but Elizabeth's words lingered in his mind thereafter. He discovered that it was through none other faults but his that Elizabeth Bennet remained a mystery to him and thus, he made a reconciliation to understand her and this could not be done without further acquaintance. It was the reason he availed himself of all opportunity to visit the parsonage and 'happen' upon her in the park.

So engrossed was Darcy in his recollections that he had no inkling of his arrival at the front door of the Collinses. He pressed on the bell and awaited the invitation to come in which was not long in coming and he entered. All recollections forgotten, he eagerly looked into Elizabeth's face as if the prognosis of her ill health might be written thereon. Indeed her face looked seriously agitated and pale when he glanced upon it and he inquired immediately about her health. Her answer was decidedly civil to him and he wondered at it. Taking his seat near the mantelpiece he thought best how to approach his resolve to her whilst he was not unaware of the puzzling looks she gave him. His anxiety would not allow the luxury of composure and he was soon up in his seat again.

Suddenly, he turned to her, weary of having a great deal of feelings in his chest that would rather tumble forth.

"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

Immediately, he felt chagrined at such an approach, but relief was soon followed for his heart was burdened so. He could see and feel Elizabeth's astonishment for she was unable to utter a speech even though she tried- she opened and closed her mouth and he continued his confession in a more moderate manner that was befitting.

"I must tell you that passionate love for you has heretofore attracted me to your disposition such that all senses regarding a mismatch as likely from both our circumstances are easily waived by me," he continued, scarcely knowing what came out of his mouth in his determination to unburden his soul. "You must know of course of your family's inferiority to mine- you have no connections to recommend you save my partiality to you and this, I am willing to emphasize upon to ignore the rest and render the content of my heart to you. The strength of my attachment to you is unconquerable even by all attempts as made by myself and I hope that you will thus reward it by an acceptance of my hand. I should warn you- there will always be the bridge designed by virtue of our different family connections, but I do not deceive myself into supposing that this will easily be surmountable, though it shall- in the due course of time and patience."

Wisely, he decided not to talk of their meeting at the tavern hoping that _she_ would mention it herself and of course, he would listen and perhaps forgive her _if_ it was nothing too grievous with none too many people acquainted with that life she led. It was also apparent that she led that life no more- for till he left Hertfordshire, not once had he seen her at the tavern (and he had been there too many times to count) after that night as to draw his conclusions.

The proposal was the longest sentences he had ever uttered without a pause in his entire life and he felt exceedingly proud of himself for his articulations. Done, he waited for Elizabeth's reply with an eagerness that bordered both anxiety and anticipated felicity.

She at last made an answer: "In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed; however, unequally they may be returned. It is natural that obligation should be felt, and if I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you. But I cannot- I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to anyone. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be of short duration. The feelings which you tell me, have long prevented the acknowledgment of your regard, can have little difficulty in overcoming it after this explanation."

At first, the import of her words refused to register with him, but when they did, Fitzwilliam felt himself colour from the roots of his hair to his toes. He was glad that he was now leaning against the mantelpiece for he didn't deem himself capable on his own two feet owning to the weight of the rejection he felt. Anger was quick to replace his embarrassment, but Elizabeth was regarding him with dreadful expectation and for that alone, he took a minute of agony to regain some semblance of composure before he uttered a word.

"And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance."

His words were false; he burned with the desire to know why he was thus rejected with utmost incivility on her part. She, however, had no such scruples or pretensions towards amiability for she inquired,

"Why with so evident a desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character? Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I was uncivil? But I have other provocations. You know I have. Had not my feelings decided against you- had they been indifferent, or had they even been favourable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the man who has been the means of ruining, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?"

At the accusation, he coloured again, for it was right and just but still lacking in merit for again, she failed to understand his intentions. He wondered how she came to rightly surmise the truth of their sudden removal from Netherfield and his part in separating Bingley and her sister; he could only hope that she would allow him a chance at explanation, but she continued to throw more accusations in his direction, all of which he painfully bore.

"I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. No motive can excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted there. You dare not, you cannot deny, that you have been the principal, if not the only means of dividing them from each other- of exposing one to the censure of the world for caprice and instability, and the other to its derision for disappointed hopes, and involving them both in misery of the acutest kind. Can you deny that you have done it?" she finished.

By this time, he had retrieved most of his composure and could now gaze at her with some attempt at serenity, though it was the last of his feelings at the moment. "I have no wish of denying that I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your sister, or that I rejoice in my success. Towards him, I have been kinder than towards myself."

Indeed, if he had been as kind to himself as he was to Bingley, he would have discerned Elizabeth's ill regard of himself and spared himself of this scene. The disdain of him was so evident on her face that he almost cringed in its wake.

"But it is not merely this affair on which my dislike is founded. Long before it had taken place my opinion of you was decided. Your character was unfolded in the recital which I received many months ago from Mr. Wickham. On this subject, what can you have to say? In what imaginary act of friendship can you here defend yourself? Or under what misrepresentation can you here impose upon others?"

Her words were now in another direction that he could _not_ totally fathom. _What has Wickham got anything to do with myself in connection to Elizabeth?_ No sooner had the question formed in his mind that he supplied an answer to it himself- Wickham must have been spreading tales about _him_ in Hertfordshire and Elizabeth, willing to believe the worst of him, had imbibed all his lies. It would serve him better, he thought with some melancholy, to know the details of the accusations thus spread _and_ the extent of his acquaintance with Elizabeth.

"You take an eager interest in that gentleman's concerns," he observed to which Elizabeth huffed.

"Who that knows what his misfortunes have been, can help feeling an interest in him?" said she feelingly.

The incredulity of her reply made him exclaim in derisive sarcasm- "His misfortunes! Yes, his misfortunes have been great indeed."

This incited some energy into Elizabeth for she threw her reply at him scathingly.

"And of your infliction! You have reduced him to his present state of poverty- comparative poverty. You have withheld the advantages which you must know to have been designed for him. You have deprived the best years of his life of that independence which was no less his due than his desert. You have done all this! And yet you can treat the mention of his misfortune with contempt and ridicule."

In the face of so much scorn, Darcy could not remain forever calm. He walked to her in agitation to stand directly in front of her.

"And this is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I thank you for explaining it so fully, Miss Bennet. My faults, according to this calculation, are heavy indeed!"

The haughty pride in her eyes informed him that perhaps, she was hurt by his bold analysis of his family and this hurt him such that he began to walk about the room before he continued.

"But perhaps, these offenses might have been overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design. These bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I, with greater policy, concealed my struggles, and flattered you into the belief of my being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination; by reason, by reflection, by everything. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections? To congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?"

Her reply stopped his progress across the room.

"You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner. You could not have made the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it."

His incredulity was complete; he was now certain that she had always held him in the highest contempt but she had more to say-

"From the very beginning; from the first moment, I may almost say of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry."

He _could not_ allow her to carry on such vilification of his character to his face. It hurt beyond anything that mere words could describe. His heart was torn into pieces and so was his pride.

"You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness."

His heart on the floor beneath Elizabeth's feet, he left the room. There was nothing else to be said.

She had said it all.


	21. Chapter 20

_Thank you for supporting me on my FIRST JAFF novel. If you have been following along, I would dearly love if you could leave a review on Amazon._  
 _I'll be starting the next story very soon._

 _ **Much love,**_

 _ **Mary-Anne**_

 **Chapter Twenty**

Fitzwilliam Darcy remembered the last time that he cried as vividly as he knew his name. Then, he was seven years old only. His mother had been violently ill with cold and she was in such a danger as for the doctor to declare her 'to die in all likelihood."

Love for his mother had driven him to the chapel to pray in a private room and there, he had fallen asleep. Nobody knew of his presence in the room and he was locked therein for the whole night. When he awoke in the middle of the night to discover himself locked up in the chapel, he had banged on the door till the flesh on his knuckles wore off, but alas the chapel was too far off from any living quarters to ensure that he was heard. All his fears for his mother and of the dark consolidated in his chest and he had cried the night away. His sobs were his rescue, for the search party, led by his own father, had found him close to dawn.

His father had looked more embarrassed to find his son crying than locked up in the chapel. With a grave look, he had carried him on his shoulder into the manor where he gave him such grave letdown for disgracing him by crying that his young son never forgot. There never was any situation, thereafter, that would ever necessitate the affair of tears.

The son was now all grown now and inherited his late father's legacy. Today, he remembered that day because the feelings in his chest sought release in tears, but only the recollection of that day, so vivid stopped the flow. Darcy was now in his room, unable to attend dinner. He was still dumbfounded with the hatred that had spewed forth from Elizabeth's mouth- he had no inkling how much she detested him and how low he was in her opinion. He who was willing to neglect her philandering to make a proposal to her (indeed, he had thought she would think this highly in his favour) was the one who had been upbraided for his immoral conducts. The irony was a potion too bitter to swallow.

In this state did Colonel Fitzwilliam come upon him and alarmed- for he had never seen his cousin so miserable, he sought to comfort him by ringing for spirits and offering a listening ear. Perhaps, it was the spirits or the pathetic murmuring of Fitzwilliam, but Darcy who never had felt the need to share his burden with a living soul, divulged all that burdened him to his cousin. To his credit, the other Fitzwilliam was most attentive and appropriately sympathetic. When Darcy was done, he spoke to him most candidly.

"I know, dear cousin, that it might be too soon to consider anything Miss Bennet said in a light other than the injustice of it all to your person, but I want you to dwell upon her words carefully when and where you—"

Seeing that Darcy would have made an objection, Fitzwilliam got the better of him by raising a hand in objection.

"Aye, I do know you to be none of the accusations levied against your character, but think- she must have a basis for them all and only this I desire of you- to look into the credibility of her accusations of your character. As for the other accusations, I say it would be the greatest injustice to leave her off with such impressions about her sister and Wickham particularly. I am afraid that I may have fuelled her deductions as regard her sister for we discussed the issue only this morning while we took a turn in the park without the least intelligence on my part that it was her sister I spoke to her about- for in truth, I know not who the object of our discourse was when you informed me about it on our way thither here."

Darcy could now reckon from whence Elizabeth obtained accurate intelligence about his involvement in Bingley's sudden quit of Netherfield. He had told Fitzwilliam of the affair but without reference to the lady or her family. No doubt, his cousin could not know that she was related to Elizabeth and related the whole story to her from which Elizabeth had formed her opinions. Darcy could not find it in him to be angry at his cousin; however, his cousin had more to say.

"Do not also forget that I am privy to Wickham's treachery and I know for certain that you have been on his tail, gaining intelligence by the consultation with a hired hand on his whereabouts for you still fear of his designs on your sister. I am of the opinion that you explain all these to Miss Elizabeth."

Perhaps in Elizabeth's accusations tonight, that concerning Wickham was the most painful. He, who had been at the receiving end of the man's cunningness and bitterness, was found blameworthy for only conjectures and lies which Wickham had spread. Still untrusting of the man's motives, he still was such that his constant visits to the tavern at Hertfordshire were all in attribution to this mistrust. Indeed, he didn't think it past Wickham to in his absence, make an attempt concerning Georgina once again. In the least, he had thought Elizabeth capable of withholding all judgement till she heard his side also- he had no idea of her bitter prejudice against him.

"What good will _that_ do?" Darcy said. "She never will believe me."

"Leave _that_ to her sensibility to judge," Fitzwilliam replied. "And I daresay that despite her ill judgement in this case, Miss Elizabeth has a good head on her pretty shoulders."

That said, Fitzwilliam gave his cousin a slap on the back and walked out of the room leaving Darcy to dwell upon his words.

Hours later found Darcy writing a very long letter. In the letter, he poured his soul out once more as he could for the last time. Despite the hurtful words that Elizabeth hurled at him, he knew not how he could write to her, every of his pride forgotten, in a final quest to earn her favour. Though this quest he knew to be impossible, he rested in the knowledge that at least, he _might_ be exonerated in her eyes in some account.

Even he did not know it then, but her words had touched a part of him that would never remain the same for, indeed, pride only needed the affection of a person and the censure of such person to redeem itself in the eyes of the world.

Elizabeth was absolutely ashamed of herself. Twice reading Darcy's letter as she walked aimlessly around the park was enough mortification for her despicable behaviour to last her a life time of mortification. At first, she had pronounced the words in the letter a lie; the inconsequential talk of a man with a hurt pride- she never knew how much of a fool _she_ was. Another careful reading of the letter, however, had revealed to her the sincerity of the author and impacted on her all she had been hitherto too blind to see. She could not believe the extent of her prejudice, absurdity and blind contempt with which she had held Mr. Darcy. He had met her this morning in the park again despite her attempts to avoid him. Composed, he given her the envelope holding the letter, but his composure did nothing to hide the dullness of his eyes. To imagine the pain that she must have given him now brought tears to her eyes.

"How despicably I have acted!" she lamented in self censure. "I, who have prided myself on my discernment! I, who have valued myself on my abilities! Who have often disdained the generous candour of my sister, and gratified my vanity in useless or blameable mistrust! How humiliating is this discovery! Yet, how just a humiliation! Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind! But vanity, not love, has been my folly. Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where either was concerned. Till this moment I never knew myself."

In his letter, he had taken great care to explain the details of Jane and Bingley's affair along with that of Wickham. His description of Jane's indifference to his friend was undeniable. Even Charlotte had made the same complaint and bid her to encourage Jane to show more interest in the man so as to encourage and not subject him to dissuasion. Mr. Darcy also excused his behaviour on account of the behaviour of her family members and therein, she was mortified beyond words, but equally irrefutable were the words with which he described her family members especially her mother and two youngest sisters.

As for Wickham, her shame knew no bounds. She had judged so wrongly. She could scarcely believe the man she knew to be all charm and smiles to be any who could behave abominably towards his benefactor's daughter by eloping with her in a hope of having her dowry of thirty thousand pounds. However, the story held some creditability because she now remembered Wickham's quickness to attend his favours to Miss King when _she_ inherited ten thousand pounds.

Elizabeth grieved that her better judgement had so failed her; causing her to blame the wrong man and scorn his professions of love.

After long hours of rambling around the park, she remembered that he had said nothing about the presumed vice which she fancied that had coloured his judgement against her. Not one word had he said as regards meeting her in the tavern at Meryton. Renewed shame filled her and she hurried home at last thinking of a way to see him, though she knew not what she must say to him. Back home, however, she met with the news that the gentlemen had left Rosings Park. She needed no fortune teller to inform her that there was no likelihood that she might ever encounter Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy again.


End file.
